‘BANANAS, BASTARDS AND VICTIMS’?

HYBRID REFLECTIONS ON CULTURAL BELONGING IN INTERCOUNTRY ADOPTEE NARRATIVES

KIM MICHELE GRAY

B. Soc. Sc. (Hons), Assoc. Dip. Soc. Sc.

Thesis submitted for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy

at The University of Newcastle

May, 2007

I hereby certify that the work embodied in this thesis is the result of original research and has not been submitted for a higher degree to any other University or Institution.

(Signed) ……………………………………………………………..

For Our Children

Liam Jong Soo Gray

and

Nicola Hae Na Gray

Acknowledgements

My first note of sincere thanks must go to the adoptee participants and their families who so generously told me their life stories. The adoptees particularly inspired me with their resilience and their ability to articulate the challenging experiences of their lives. Their stories above all offer a vision of hope and strength amidst a contemporary climate of fear and uncertainty.

Dr Ellen Jordan, my mentor for more than a decade deserves a special thank you. Her longstanding interest in my ‘intercountry project’, encouragement and support is greatly appreciated. Dr Santi Rozario and Professor Geoffrey Samuel offered much assistance in the early stages of the project as did numerous other staff in the School of Social Sciences.

To my ever patient husband David, our children Liam Jong Soo and Nicola Hae Na, and our parents, I give my warmest thanks and sincere gratitude for their enduring encouragement and love. My extended families, supportive friends and many members of the intercountry adoption ‘community’ have also significantly contributed to the successful completion of the project.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

PART 1...... 1 ‘CULTURAL IDENTITY’ AND INTERCOUNTRY ADOPTEES...... 1 CHAPTER ONE ...... 2 INTRODUCTION ...... 2 Returning to Korea ...... 3 (In)Authentic Identities...... 6 (Re)Defining ‘Cultural Identity’ and ‘Difference’ ...... 9 Chapter Outlines...... 12 CHAPTER TWO...... 17 ‘B ANANAS , BASTARDS AND VICTIMS ’? – (R E)D EFINING INTERCOUNTRY ADOPTEES ...... 17 The Australian Context...... 17 Intercountry Adoption Literature ...... 20 Politics of Representation and Interpretation ...... 24 ‘Cultural Identity’ in Intercountry Adoptee Literature ...... 26 ‘Identity Confusion’ and Intercountry Adoptees...... 30 Research Questions ...... 32 CHAPTER THREE ...... 34 METHODOLOGY ...... 34 A Qualitative Project ...... 34 Insider and Outsider ...... 35 Multiple Methods of Social Inquiry...... 38 Defining the Research ‘Group’ – A Comparative Australian Focus ...... 39 Collaboration with Other Adoption Researchers ...... 43 Recruitment of Participants and Data Collection...... 44 Ethical Issues ...... 46 Electronic In-Depth Interviewing...... 48 Data Interpretation and Analysis ...... 52 CHAPTER FOUR ...... 56 THEORISING ‘C ULTURAL IDENTITY ’...... 56 ‘Culture’ and Its Meanings...... 57 Identity ‘in crisis’ ...... 58 ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and Nation...... 61 ‘Hybrid’ Identities ...... 65 The Politics of Representation ...... 67 PART 2...... 74 HYBRID MODES OF CULTURAL BELONGING...... 74 CHAPTER FIVE ...... 75

TRAVELLING BACK , GOING ‘H OME ’ – THE MYTHS AND SOCIAL REALITIES OF RETURNING (P ART ONE )...... 75 Differences in Adoptee Experiences – ‘Younger’ and ‘Older’ Adoptee groups...... 77 Returning to the Birth Country...... 78 Travelling to Korea ...... 79 Searching – the Korean Adolescent Experience...... 87 CHAPTER SIX ...... 98 TRAVELLING BACK – (P ART TWO )...... 98 The Sri Lankan Experience ...... 99 The Vietnamese Experience ...... 105 The Malaysian Experience ...... 118 CHAPTER SEVEN ...... 122 DISCOURSES ON ADOPTION AND IDENTITY IN ADOPTEE NARRATIVES ...... 122 Identity and Adoption...... 123 Imagining Families – The Changing Discourses of Adoption...... 125 Intercountry Adoptee Experiences of ‘Being Adopted’ – The ‘Older’ Group...... 133 The ‘Younger’ Group ...... 143 CHAPTER EIGHT ...... 148 DISCOURSES ON ‘R ACE ’, ‘C ULTURE ’ AND NATION BUILDING IN ADOPTEE NARRATIVES ...... 148 Said’s Ideas on the Discourse of Orientalism ...... 150 Orientalism and Otherness in the Australian Context ...... 153 Building the Australian Nation – Constructions of Sameness and Difference ...... 155 Intercountry Adoption and Constructions of Asian Otherness ...... 158 Cultural Assimilation and the ‘Australian Way of Life’...... 163 Multiculturalism and the Construction of Difference...... 169 Intercountry Adoptees Negotiating Difference ...... 171 Dealing with Racism in Multicultural ...... 175 CHAPTER NINE...... 181

HYBRID REFLECTIONS ON CULTURAL BELONGING – STRATEGIES OF RESISTANCE IN INTERCOUNTRY ADOPTEE NARRATIVES ...... 181 Intercountry Adoptee ‘Communities’ ...... 184 (In)Authentic Adoptee Identities in Transition ...... 188 Belonging and Place...... 195 Belonging, Cultural Identity and Interracial Families ...... 201 The (In)Significance of ‘Cultural Bites’ to Intercountry Adoptees...... 217 The Changing Nature of ‘Cultural Identity’ ...... 226 CHAPTER TEN ...... 232 FUTURE DIRECTIONS ...... 232 APPENDIX 1 – INTERCOUNTRY ADOPTEE PARTICIPANTS ...... 236 APPENDIX 2 – ABBREVIATIONS AND WEBSITE DETAILS ...... 246 REFERENCES ...... 247

SYNOPSIS

Intercountry adoption emerged in Australia in the1970s, at the end of the Vietnam War and with each new decade the adoption ‘community’ and broader society have become more aware of the challenges and complexities of the adoptee experience. It is an area where contemporary preoccupations with issues of identity, kinship relations and concerns about ‘race’ and cultural belonging are being played out.

Research on intercountry adoption has, until recent years, been primarily conducted by researchers in the professions of psychology, social work, law and child development. As a consequence these professions have to a large extent influenced and driven public debate and policy in this area. Issues about cultural and racial identity have generally been discussed and problematised either at an individual or familial level - how adoptees negotiate issues of racial difference in particular socio-political, historical and cultural contexts is usually missing from these accounts. As intercountry adoption is intricately connected to society’s ideas about race, culture, ethnicity, kinship and belonging - to family and to nation - the disciplines of sociology and anthropology have an important research role to play. This study seeks to problematise the narrow definition of identity that adoptees are usually subject to, attempting to move beyond essentialist notions about the ‘loss of identity’ and ‘loss of culture’ associated with the adoption experience which has tended to promote a discourse of victimisation. Rather, the study asks questions about how particular discourses of race, adoption and identity have impacted on adoptees’ lives and the different modes of belonging adoptees employ to manage their positions of difference.

This is a comparative qualitative study using multiple methods of social inquiry. It focuses on two core groups of Australian intercountry adoptees - an adolescent and an adult group - who were born in Vietnam, Korea, Sri Lanka and Malaysia. Their life histories are compared by placing their experiences in the broader socio-political and historical contexts of Australia’s immigration policies, adoption policies and history of race relations. Their hybrid experiences are also compared to some transracial adoptees in other Western nations and to some other transnational groups, within the broader body of work on postcolonial identity construction, in an effort to illuminate how intercountry adoptees’ share the ‘third space’ with others who also live through issues about cultural authenticity and the essentialism often associated with identity formation.

The study concludes with an alternative reading of the intercountry adoptee experience. It suggests that some adoptees are managing to (re)invent and (re)define their fluid, hybrid identities within the broader context of culturally diverse youth and adults in multicultural Australia and by their membership within other diasporic movements. The study points to the importance of appropriate social support including support from peer groups, family, other adoptees, and the significance of place to adoptees’ sense of belonging. ‘Cultural identity’, as the often quoted Stuart Hall (1990:225) suggests, “is a matter of ‘becoming’ as well as of ‘being’” and “it belongs to the future as much as to the past”.

1

PART 1

‘CULTURAL IDENTITY’ AND INTERCOUNTRY ADOPTEES

2

CHAPTER ONE

Introduction

Transnational adoption, in particular, provokes myriad questions about race, culture and nation; about genes, kinship, and belonging; and about the politics of sending and receiving nations, poor and rich, powerless and powerful. As Strong (2002) writes eloquently: ‘Adoption across political and cultural borders may simultaneously be an act of violence and an act of love, an excruciating rupture and a generous incorporation, an appropriation of valued resources and a constitution of personal ties’ (Volkman 2003b:4).

Intercountry adoption 1, the highly contested domain which involves the adoption of children across national, cultural and (usually) racial borders is the broad subject of this dissertation. In the contemporary context, intercountry adoptees symbolise the fragility, chaos and confusion associated with postcolonial identity construction. They are exposed to numerous, complex and often contradictory discourses 2 about what it may mean to be separated from birth family and ‘birth culture’, and to be racially different living in multicultural Australia. In media and other popular representations they may be portrayed as being ‘saved’, or as living ‘between two cultures’, or as having incomplete lives which can only be made ‘whole’ by returning to their place of birth and reuniting with family members. But rarely are they viewed as (re)inventing and (re)defining their own sense of place and space, as active, empowered participants in their own life’s course. As one adoptee protested, intercountry adoptees are more than ‘bananas, bastards and victims’. This dissertation aims to provide a glimpse into the hybrid lives of some adolescent and adult intercountry adoptees and their families living in Australia

1 ‘Intercountry’ adoption’ is the term used in much ‘official’ discourse, referring to the “ of children from countries other than Australia who are legally available and placed for adoption, but who generally have had no previous contact or relationship with the adoptive parents” (AIHW 2006:2). The adoption of a child from a different racial and cultural background from her adoptive parents and who was also born in a country other than Australia is also described in contemporary academic and other literature as ‘transnational’ or ‘international’ or ‘transracial adoption’. ‘Transracial’ adoption, however, may also refer to the adoption of child from a different racial and cultural background than that of her adoptive parents but not from another country. Until, relatively recently this term has predominantly been used in the U.K. and U.S. to describe the adoption of Black children by White parents. In recent times in Australia it has been used to describe both the adoption of indigenous children and those who have been adopted across national and racial borders (Armstrong 2001, Williams 2003). In Australia, adoption of an Aboriginal child by white parents is now extremely rare. Indigenous Placement Principles in each state restrict eligibility criteria for adoptive parents mainly to people of a similar indigenous background (AIHW. 2006). 2 I use the word ‘discourse’ in the Foucauldian sense of “a body of language-use that is unified by common assumptions” and influenced by the notion of power. Discourses allow people to understand their world within an ordered and structured framework where some things are acceptable and other things are not (Abercrombie 2000). Introduction 3

in the last three decades of the twentieth century (and the first years of the twenty-first) and their efforts to achieve a sense of belonging within and beyond bounded notions of identity, family, community and nation.

Returning to Korea

In September 2005 a group of fifteen adoptive families, (including myself, my husband and our two Korean-born children, a nine-year-old son and a seven-year-old daughter), as well as other Korean- from Saet Byol Korean School, travelled from

Sydney, Australia to on a ‘Motherland Tour’. This particular trip to Korea marked ten years since our first association with Saet Byol, an organisation set up by some members of the Korean-Australian ‘community’ and adoptive parents in 1988 to provide and other ‘cultural’ activities for adoptive families. The

‘Motherland Tour’ group consisted of thirty-two children (and their parents), most of whom were adopted from South Korea, ranging in age from two to fifteen (most being under ten years old). The trip was not the focus of any Australian media attention - it differed from those of high profile movie stars portrayed in popular women’s magazines and television broadcasts ‘saving’ orphaned children and indeed from other stories of adoptees embarking on a ‘quest for identity’.

While families (and individual family members) on the Saet Byol trip differed in their motivations and expectations about the journey, participants generally agreed that this was an opportunity for parents and children to experience a little more of Korean traditional and contemporary cultures and to (re)connect with people and places which had poignant personal significance. For most of the children it meant the chance to indulge in Korea’s latest technological innovations, to visit theme parks, to have fun skylarking with friends on the long bus journeys around the country and generally to feel a part of the broader ‘family’ of adoptees in the country of their birth. For my seven- year-old daughter and some of the other adoptees, it also entailed numerous visits to Introduction 4

the place where she had spent the first few days of her life - Eastern Babies Home - situated on another floor of the building which also encompassed our ‘home away from home’, Eastern Social Welfare Society’s guest house in . Together with her adoptee friends, my daughter watched and helped the nurses feed and care for newborn babies who had been relinquished for adoption, most likely destined for a life

‘just like mine’ in a Western country far away while some may also find homes within their birth country 3.

For most of the adoptees on the Saet Byol trip, visits to the Babies Home, to the hospital where they were born and meetings with foster parents and social workers, allowed them to feel a greater sense of connection to ‘Korea’ and to actively

(re)construct their own stories about the first months of their lives before they joined their adoptive families and travelled to Australia. As an example, my daughter proudly exclaimed about her Saet Byol travel companion and friend - whose birthday is only two days away from hers and who she likes to believe shared a cot with her in Eastern

Babies Home – “I knew .… before I knew you, Mum!”. The trip included a home-stay with local Korean families (in the home town of the Korean-Australian family who organised the tour), where adoptive families experienced contemporary living arrangements and lifestyles. It also included staying in a Buddhist temple and eating, sleeping and chanting with resident monks, and staying in other traditional accommodation in a ‘folk village’. The journey not only encompassed profoundly emotional meetings with significant people in the children’s early lives (not including

3 Korea’s history of transracial adoption commenced more than fifty years ago when United States citizen and evangelical Christian, Harry Holt and his wife Bertha adopted eight ‘mixed-race’ orphans from the and with agreement from both Korean and United States governments established Holt Adoption Agency. Eleana Kim reports that “following the first wave of mixed-race children came full-blood Korean ‘orphans’ relinquished in large part due to extreme poverty, a lack of social service options, and a staunchly patrilineal ‘Confucian’ society that places primal importance on consanguineous relations, especially on the status that comes with bearing sons.” (Kim 2003:63). Kim suggests that in more recent years “factors such as South Korea’s rapid industrialization, uneven economic development, patriarchal attitudes about women’s sexuality, residual gender ideologies in contradiction with liberal sexual practices, and the recent IMF crisis serve to perpetuate the social conditions that contribute to the abandonment or relinquishment of children in South Korea” (Kim 2003:63).

Introduction 5

birth parents) 4, it also cemented friendships with other adoptees and fostered transnational friendships opening up possibilities for ongoing communication and future journeys across national boundaries.

I have elaborated on my family’s journey to Korea as a source of comparison to the very different life experiences of Australia’s first intercountry adoptees who arrived from war-torn Vietnam three decades ago. Most of the Korean adoptee children who travelled on the Saet Byol ‘Motherland’ tour arrived in Australia as babies, about a decade after the adolescent adoptees who participated in this project and between two and three decades after the adult adoptee participants. With each new decade the adoption ‘community’ and broader society have become more aware of the challenges and complexities of being ‘an intercountry adoptee’, learning from Vietnamese and other earlier adoptees who spoke of experiences of isolation and the damaging effects of policies of assimilation and adoption secrecy on their identity construction.

Nevertheless, although intercountry adoptees today are exposed to opportunities and choices not available to many of Australia’s first intercountry adoptees, discourses of assimilation and experiences of racial difference linger. In multicultural Australia,

‘cultural’ difference is celebrated and ‘returning to roots’ journeys seen as integral to finding one’s ‘true’ identity, at the same time as nationalist discourses about the

Australian ‘way of life’ and cultural homogeneous sentiment is expressed in the public domain. Adoptee identity construction needs situating within broader discourses relating to ‘race’, ‘culture’ and identity, taking into account particular socio-political and historical contexts where intercountry adoptees share their hybrid experiences with other transnational groups.

4 Adoption in South Korea remains a largely secret practice. Although some of the younger children, supported by their adoptive parents, requested more information and contact with birth parents, usually their birth mother, social workers advised that searching and contact could not be made until the children were thirteen years old. Introduction 6

Australia’s intercountry adoption policy has been significantly influenced by past practices in local adoption as well as by particular racial discourses including those which perpetuated significant injustices experienced by (Human

Rights and Equal Opportunities Commission. 1997). Legislation enacted by parliaments in Australian states and territories between 1984 and 1994 opened up adoption records for adult adopted persons and their birth parents, effectively ending the period of adoption secrecy for local adoptions (Marshall 2001:3). This has led to a more general discourse of ‘openness’ in relation to adoption, not only amongst adoption workers, researchers and academics but also within the wider community.

Particularly visible within the community are interracial adoptive families where the differences between family members suggests new forms of kinship, challenging the meaning of family and sparking significant dialogue around issues of ‘race’, cultural difference and belonging to family and to nation.

(In)Authentic Identities

As a white adoptive parent, I have a profound personal involvement in questions about

‘race’ and ‘cultural identity’ in relation to adoptees and ‘others’. On a daily basis, my husband and I experience with our children the curiosity, kindness and rudeness of strangers, the contradictions, complexities and extraordinary joys of raising transracially adopted children. For example, when, in the months prior to the

‘Motherland’ trip and on our return, our family shared the excitement about travelling back to Korea with friends, acquaintances and others in the community, the questions we were asked seemed to reflect the contemporary discourses of ‘openness’ in relation to adoption as well as the ‘naturalness’ of biological families. As an example, a frequently asked question was whether our children would see any of “their family”

(sometimes phrased as “their real family’) while they were in Korea – after all wasn’t Introduction 7

that the reason for our return? 5. The ethnocentric and inaccurate assumption was often made that South Korea shared Australia’s relatively ‘open’ adoption system. Public narratives about ‘search and reunion’ and the ‘naturalness’ of biological families reflect broader societal discourses about ‘returning to one’s roots’ as a way to find one’s ‘true’ and ‘essential’ identity. As Barbara Yngvesson and Maureen Mahoney suggest

“adoption struggles make good front page news” and like other ”‘broken’ stories – such as those of refugees, immigrants…and other diasporic populations – confront us all with the anxiety of lack of certitude. But we can reassure ourselves of our rootedness by watching and worrying about others’ uprootedness” (Yngvesson 2000:78). However, discourses about ‘roots’ tend to mask the contradictions and ambiguities in adoptees’ lives, reducing the complexities of identity construction, which require socio-political, cultural and historical contextualising, into stories about a quest for ‘wholeness’.

Questions about who or what constitutes a ‘real’ family also reflect the way discourses about adoption and identity have changed in recent decades. In late twentieth/early twenty-first century Australia, a child’s right to knowledge of and access to birthparents and ‘birth cultures’ is enshrined in law, a far cry from the pre-1970s discourse which saw and sealed records primarily as the social and moral solution to illegitimacy and infertility. As Audrey Marshall and Margaret McDonald suggest, “in less than thirty years adoption, previously accepted as a neat and socially sanctioned method of meeting the needs of unmarried pregnant women who could not keep their babies, of infertile married couples, and of babies needing homes and families, has now come to be viewed with much greater ambivalence. Among some birth parents and among the most vocal commentators it is now seen as a discredited and unpopular option” (Marshall 2001:3). The social pendulum has indeed swung as Toby Volkman points out, “from the virtual denial of adoption and the biological beginnings of the

5 A more diplomatic question to adoptive parents who obviously consider themselves very ‘real’, would perhaps be “what will you be doing while you are in Korea?” Another question often asked of our family is whether my children are ‘real’ brother and sister. Introduction 8

adopted child to an insistent ideology that without embrace of those beginnings there will forever be a gaping hole, a primal wound, an incomplete self” (Volkman 2003a:34).

In addition to our involvement in the Saet Byol tour to South Korea, the last decade has seen our family participate in a number of adoption and Korean-Australian

‘communities’ and numerous adoption and Korean ‘culture’ related activities. They include attending the weekend Korean language school in our city, founding and participating on Australia-adopt-korea listserv, an on-line information and support service primarily for intercountry adoptive families, attending ‘culture’ camps, Korean cooking classes, exhibitions of Korean traditional costumes, dance and other musical performances, as well as participating in seminars and workshops on adoption and race. We are a part of a major cultural shift in attitudes about adoptive parenting, as

Toby Volkman suggests, part of the Western preoccupation that impels “parents and adoptees to seek connections with country or the culture of origin…that would have been unimaginable in an earlier era” (Volkman 2003b:4).

But this is not to say that all adoptive parents in the contemporary era are involved in the intercountry adoption ‘community’ or their children’s ‘birth culture’ in the same ways, or indeed that all earlier adoptive parents embraced assimilationist practices. For example, some contemporary parents have significant involvement in the years before their children commence school and break away from the ‘community’ of adoptive families as their children find their own areas of interest. While some make lasting friendships within the ‘community’, others find that their status as ‘adoptee’ or ‘adoptive parent’ is insufficient to maintain long term relationships - adoptee and adoptive family

‘communities’ are as heterogeneous and fluid as any other. Introduction 9

(Re)Defining ‘Cultural Identity’ and ‘Difference’

The heterogeneous nature of adoptive families in my previous study (briefly discussed in Chapter Two) and my family’s involvement in numerous ‘groups’ related to adoption and ‘Korea’ made me acutely aware of the different ways adoptive parents raised their children. However, I was no longer propelled to understand the adoption process as it relates to adoptive parents’ quests to ‘create a family’, but more interested in the ‘how’,

‘when’ and ‘why’ of particular discourses about adoption, race and culture and the different ways they impact on adoptees’ identity construction. My shift of focus from adoptive parents to adoptees was in many ways because, like most parents, I was living daily with the responsibilities, joys and challenges of raising children in an increasingly complex world and the well-being of my children became my main focus.

But our status as an interracial adoptive family was, from its inception, imbued with additional complexities relating to experiences of loss and experiences of racial difference both within the family and within the broader community.

My interest in better understanding what it may mean to be an intercountry adoptee was also framed by my concerns about what had become a popular theory in

Australian adoption discourse, promoted by American psychologists such as, Betty

Jean Lifton and Nancy Verrier, who suggested that the severing of the connection formed in utero between mother and child causes a permanent ‘primal wound’ from which the child (and birth mother) never recover (Lifton 1977; Lifton 1981; Lifton 1994;

Verrier 1993). I wondered what adoptees thought about this biologically determinist and generalist theory about the adoptee ‘condition’. This led to further questions about how other broader discourses in relation to identity construction, questions about how particular meanings about ‘cultural’ and ‘racial’ identity may impact on their sense of self.

Introduction 10

In the years following our son’s and daughter’s births, I participated in online discussions where adult adoptees in various Western countries including United

States, Canada and various Scandinavian and European countries discussed their varied feelings about growing up adopted – stories about abandonment, growing up in predominantly white environments, belonging and not belonging. However Australian intercountry adoptees’ stories seemed to be missing from these online discussions.

What was it like for intercountry adoptees growing up in Australia? How do different socio-cultural, historical and political environments impact on adoptees’ identity construction? Does their status as ‘intercountry adoptee’ mean that they can only expect to live a ‘less than life’, a life ‘between two cultures’? I wanted to better understand how discourses about adoption and race had changed in the three decades since Australia’s first overseas adoptees had arrived and began to ask questions about the way intercountry adoptees may accommodate and resist imposed identity positions at different times in different places and spaces. What are the ways intercountry adoptees defined themselves and what social support was/is available to intercountry adoptees throughout their lives to assist them?

‘Cultural identity’ in relation to intercountry adoptees has tended to be discussed in limited ways, sometimes in generalist arguments about adoptees’ being subject to a

‘loss of culture’ or a ‘loss of identity’ which reduces the complexities of identity construction and adoptees’ well-being to how they identify with particular racial or

‘ethnic’ categories and whether they have explored their ‘roots’. In this way, an intercountry adoptee’s ‘cultural identity’ is narrowly framed as a bounded, traditional, unchanging, essential entity in need of preservation rather than, as I have come to believe, a hybrid, dynamic mix of positions significantly impacted by the past but also open to numerous contemporary modes of belonging albeit contingent on particular socio-political and cultural constraints.

Introduction 11

Intercountry adoptees are of course not alone in negotiating issues of racial difference in postcolonial Western societies. Like other immigrant communities, they are exposed to various racisms and sometimes restrained and contained by dominant paradigms which essentialise identity in terms of racial characteristics or ‘ethnic’ belonging.

Australian intercountry adoptee experiences therefore need to be understood within their individual family units but also as part of a broader canvas, as part of the broader

‘community’ of global adoptees as well as a consideration of how they share their ‘third space’ with other transnational groups within local communities, within Australia and beyond.

The empirical evidence presented in this study is used to identify collective modes of identification within adoptee ‘communities’ and broader diasporic movements as well as resistance to such groups by others in particular space, place and historio-cultural contexts who choose to narrativise themselves in different ways. The study considers how individual adoptees’ strategies to identify with a particular ‘ethnic’ group in adulthood are not only related to contemporary issues of belonging in multicultural

Australia but also reflect earlier experiences of racial difference living in assimilationist

Australia.

Whilst I am framing my argument in anti-essentialist terms, I am not disputing the necessity and political potency of such constructions for some individuals and communities. I am, however, more interested in exploring the possibilities of what intercountry adoptees ‘may become’ and the ‘constant transformation’ of cultural identities - as Stuart Hall and others have so eloquently articulated in the broader context of postcolonial identity construction. A tendency to promote the essential racial sameness of group members and to (re)claim a cultural or racial essence may mask the heterogeneous ways individuals and groups construct their identities and the myriad of ways people live with difference. As an alternative, I would like to promote Introduction 12

the empowering nature of hybrid identity constructions which can not only claim a sense of community around issues of ‘mixed’ racial inequalities but can also encompass liaisons and affiliations between individuals and communities in different places and spaces. Intercountry adoptees may choose to form numerous interrelationships with individuals and groups related to such things as educational interests, sporting activities, gender affiliations, locations, work connections, artistic and other creative pursuits, age-related activities with peer groups and so on. These multiple, fluid positionings intersect with socially and personally ascribed racial or

‘ethnic’ categories which at different moments become more or less important. The chapter outlines to follow will briefly describe how these ideas will unfold as the thesis progresses.

Chapter Outlines

Chapter Two outlines the research ‘problem’ and considers the way intercountry adoptees have been defined in the literature particularly in relation to issues of racial and cultural identity. It considers the Australian context of the institution of intercountry adoption and points to the dearth of sociological and anthropological literature available about intercountry adoptees’ experiences of growing up in Australia and the particular socio-political and cultural contexts which have impacted on their lives.

Chapter Three considers the methodological tools used in the study as well as considering my position as both an insider and outsider to the participants. The study uses multiple methods of social inquiry which include in-depth multiple interviews - spanning the years 2001-2004 - with a case study group of twenty adoptees who were born in Vietnam, South Korea, Sri Lanka and Malaysia. The in-depth interviews were complemented by analysis of personal documents such as diary entries, poetry, speeches given at public gatherings on adoption, recollections of travelling to birth countries as well as interviews with some of the adoptees’ parents. The validity of using Introduction 13

the constant comparative method discussed by Glaser and Strauss (1967) and further explained by Strauss and Corbin (1990) is discussed in this chapter as are the multiple methods of sourcing numerous adoptee experiences. I include consideration of number of adoptee anthologies in Australia and in some other Western countries, the usefulness of listservs and websites, newspapers, magazines, adoption newsletters as well as the importance of participant observation in contextualising adoptee experience within structures and relationships of power. ‘Official’ adoption discourse is accessed through analysis of a number of government reports including a recent Federal

Government inquiry into intercountry . The importance of collaboration with other adoption researchers, who occupy different positions both within the ‘adoption triangle’ (adoptees, birth parents and adoptive parents), and others who research from a position as ‘outsider’, is also discussed.

Chapter Four is concerned with the way ‘cultural identity’ in relation to intercountry adoptee identity construction has been theorised. It points to the necessity of understanding the different meanings and assumptions about ‘culture’, ‘race’ and identity present in some adoption discourses, suggesting that cultural identity requires critical analysis beyond notions of individual and familial pathology to an analysis of the broader societal and global discourses which impact on identity construction. This chapter places adoptees’ ‘crisis of identity’ within postcolonial and cultural studies approaches to identity construction, arguing that theorists such as Stuart Hall, Homi

Bhabha and Paul Gilroy offer alternative understandings of cultural identity, opening opportunities for the development of strategies of resistance and different modes of belonging within and through structures of dominance. The latter part of the chapter argues in favour of hybridity theory which is a useful analytical tool for countering the essentialist tendencies of some contemporary intercountry adoption discourse and as a way to map the complexities of adoptee identity construction and the ways in which they manage difference. Introduction 14

The second part of the thesis is concerned with an analysis of the empirical data.

Chapters Five and Six commence the comparison between a group of Australia’s first adoptees, now adults, and a group of adolescent adoptees and their experiences of travelling back to their birth countries. These chapters begin the ongoing discussion about how different socio-political, historical and cultural contexts impact on adoptee experiences growing up in Australia, paying particular attention to the discourses associated with assimilation and multiculturalism. These chapters also illustrate the impact of contemporary ‘search and reunion’ discourses on adoptees motivations, expectations, and memories of their journeys. Differences in travel experiences between the two groups illustrate the dominance of particular discourses about adoption and race throughout the adoptees’ lives and these discourses become the subject of the subsequent chapters.

Chapter Seven looks at the institution of adoption as it relates to intercountry adoptees and considers how their identity construction is impacted by a range of conflicting and sometimes overlapping discourses in two main areas – adoption and race. Adoption stories open up questions about kinship, about who belongs with whom and the State’s role in determining the ‘best interests of the child’. Adoption stories also raise questions about the various ways adoptive families have been managed through the implementation of particular social policies at particular historical moments. Some of the major changes in adoption policy which reflect social and cultural practices of adoption in Australia are discussed, and adult and adolescent adoptee narratives analysed, highlighting the significant differences in the ways each group has responded to particular discourses and to being adopted.

Chapter Eight examines the complexities and ambivalences associated with racial and cultural identity formation in intercountry adoptees. The chapter considers how ‘race’ and ‘culture’ are integral to Australia’s history of nation building and how discourses of Introduction 15

otherness are present in Australian government policy and practices. It encompasses an analysis of how the policies of assimilation and multiculturalism and ideas about the

Australian ‘way of life’ are negotiated by adoptees and how this has changed in the last few decades. Despite the persistence of various racisms in multicultural Australia, within the rhetoric of multiculturalism (unlike assimilation), intercountry adoptees and

‘others’ now find numerous ways of redefining themselves outside the bounded confines of whiteness.

The final empirical chapter moves the discussion from ideas about belonging to a nation to consider the way adoptees’ complex and contradictory multiple identities can be understood at the local level in their membership in various ‘communities’ as well as in relation to global influences, within the politics of the diaspora and the numerous intercultural exchanges which are part of their hybrid existence. Chapter Nine includes a discussion on the politics of representation and the more contested domain of

‘identity politics’ and individual adoptees’ responses to others attempts to categorise them. Adoptees’ membership in various youth cultures, within their interracial families and within broader diasporic movements, suggests that their various modes of belonging are, as Homi Bhabha and Stuart Hall suggest, in a continual process of hybridity. Like members of other transnational groups, adoptees sometimes display moments of ‘strategic essentialism’ (Gayatri Spivak 1987) to better cope with feelings of marginalisation while at other times (as Melissa Butcher and Mandy Thomas discuss in relation to culturally diverse youth cultures), adoptees may employ more strategically hybrid positions dependent on the “time, place and person doing the asking” (Butcher and Thomas 2003a:39). It seems clear from the diversity of adoptees’ and others’ experiences that the extent to which individuals can ‘strategically’ position themselves is not only dependent on familial strategies or historical specificity but must also take into account access to a variety of social support including such things as effective support to deal with racism, access to a diverse range of sub-culture styles, Introduction 16

opportunities for transnational pursuits as well as a supportive family who amongst other things, encourage knowledge and acceptance of, and access to, a diversity of peoples and cultures. The meaning of ‘cultural identity’ as it relates to intercountry adoptees therefore, needs to include more than a (re)establishment or (re)invention of cultural traditions but also incorporate the diverse contemporary modes of hybrid belonging shown in intercountry adoptee narratives.

The final chapter of the thesis explores openings for future research particularly in the area of post-adoption support which is significantly undeveloped in Australia.

17

CHAPTER TWO

‘Bananas, Bastards and Victims’? – (Re)Defining Intercountry Adoptees

What I mean is some little adoptee is going to be looking for others like her/him someday and come across a library of essays cataloguing injustice, unfairness and resentment for the world, but will she/he come across ideas that talk about finding dignity and strength? What is the author's intention?

The life of an adoptee is difficult but so many of us are making it. Our success is not because we are bananas, bastards and victims. It comes from something we have yet to write about”. (Adult Korean-American adoptee on Korean Adoptees Worldwide listserv- May 2003)

The passage written by an adult Korean-American captures one adoptee’s resistance to the dominant discourse surrounding the ‘adoptee condition’ and provides a good starting point to describe and contextualise the research ‘problem’. This chapter is primarily concerned with the way intercountry adoptees have been ‘defined’ in the literature, highlighting where there may be gaps, particularly in relation to issues of racial and cultural identity. It will also consider how discourses surrounding the institution of intercountry adoption vary within a number of academic disciplines and in the dialogue of other adoption organisations.

The Australian Context

Intercountry adoption is a relatively recent phenomenon in Australian history. Unlike the

United States where adoption of children who were victims of war commenced after the

Second World War, in Australia adoption of children from other countries did not commence in any systematic way until the Vietnam airlift of 1975 known as Operation

Babylift 6. While the majority of children have come from Asia, mostly from South Korea

6 Operation Babylift was the name given to the mass evacuation of war orphans from Vietnam just prior to the fall of Saigon in 1975. Children were evacuated to a number of countries including around 2,000 to the United States and lesser numbers to Canada, Europe and Australia. While Vietnamese orphans had been adopted by European families (and a small number of Australian families) during the war years, Australia’s involvement in the adoption of Vietnamese children did not commence in any systematic way until the 1975 airlift. Harvey reports the arrival of 292 Vietnamese orphans while Williams estimates “that at the end of the Vietnam War between 292 to 537 Vietnamese orphans were eventually adopted into Australian families” (Harvey 1980:39), (Williams 2003:14). Harvey also reports that the government welfare department “showed a marked reluctance to encourage and support families wishing to arrange…intercountry placements” (Harvey 1980:38). ‘Bananas, Bastards and Victims’? 18

and in more recent years from China, and in smaller numbers from countries such as the Philippines, Thailand, India and Sri Lanka, other children have come from African countries such as Ethiopia and South American countries such as Columbia and

Bolivia. The adolescent and adult adoptees who participated in this study have mostly arrived from Vietnam and South Korea and a smaller number from Malaysia and Sri

Lanka.

The Australian Institute of Health and Welfare (AIHW) reports that “the adoption process for intercountry adoption children is strictly controlled by each state and territory under the relevant Adoption Act and by the Australian Government under the

Immigration (Guardianship of Children) Act 1946 ”. The report suggests that “while each state and territory has its own legislation relating to intercountry adoption the process is relatively similar across the jurisdiction” (AIHW 2006:3). However, my earlier Honours degree research and a recent Federal Government report on overseas adoption, has shown that there are different regulations in relation to the process individual prospective parents must go through prior to adoption, which countries children may be adopted from, fees charged for the government services as well as differences in areas such as post-placement support (Gray 1999; Gray 2007; House of Representatives

Standing Committee on Family and Human Services 2005). Policy and practice in each state differ and access to appropriate services significantly impacts on the way adoptees negotiate their complex identities.

Australia ratified the Hague Convention on Protection of Children and Cooperation in

Respect of Intercountry Adoption in December 1998. The Convention establishes uniform procedures to be followed by the countries which have ratified the Convention and aims to ensure that the child’s best interests are protected. In Australia, the

Commonwealth and the state and territory governments are jointly responsible for all overseas adoption programs while a “suitable central agency in the overseas country is ‘Bananas, Bastards and Victims’? 19

(also) required to administer the program in accordance with standards acceptable to

Australia” (AIHW 2006:3).

In my earlier research on intercountry adoption in Australia I considered the experiences of some adoptive parents going through the extensive, heavily bureaucratised process of adopting a child from another country. The study considered the institution of adoption in contemporary Australia through the insights of prospective and newly formed intercountry adoptive families. It sought an understanding of

Australia’s reluctance to encourage and assist intercountry adoptive families and the way particular meanings and assumptions about ‘race’, ‘culture’ and ‘identity’ influenced the policy and practice of intercountry adoption in this country. The study suggested that official and popular discourse surrounding the institution of adoption could be better understood through an analysis of Australia’s history of race relations, development of nationalism and the policies of assimilation and multiculturalism (Gray

1999).

The primary argument of my earlier research and one which I wish to refine and further elaborate in this study is the way ‘identity’ in relation to intercountry adoption has been reduced to essentialist discussions about ‘race’ and simplistic, popular notions about

‘cultural identity’. In the earlier study I argued that “this position negates the complexity of choice and the contradictions present in the life of adoptees and relegates them to a predetermined fixed role, one of forever trying to escape the effects of their ‘identity confusion’” (Gray 1999:130) and concluded that while it cannot be denied that intercountry adoption is intricately connected with separation and loss issues, this is not the whole story. This study attempts to present more stories through the diverse experiences of some adolescent and adult adoptees who speak about the complexities, ambivalences and changing nature of their identities. It also aims to understand how Australia’s history of race relations and government policies in relation ‘Bananas, Bastards and Victims’? 20

to immigration may impact on adoptees’ lives differently at particular points in

Australia’s history. For example, Australia’s first adoptees, mostly from Vietnam, arrived when assimilation policies were still evident in everyday social practices. This study considers the way the first intercountry adoptees to Australia negotiated and articulated their racial difference in contrast to other groups of adoptees such as

Koreans who arrived later. A consideration of the literature on intercountry adoption will highlight the way adoptees have generally been described suggesting areas where alternative ways of understanding are needed.

Intercountry Adoption Literature

Until relatively recently research on intercountry adoption has been primarily conducted by the professionals in the psychology, social work, law, and child development areas.

As a consequence the approaches of these professions have to a large extent influenced and driven public debate and policy in relation to intercountry adoption. As

Toby Volkman suggests, “although there is a voluminous adoption literature in psychology and social work, in other disciplines adoption has just begun to emerge as a serious topic.” She goes on to suggest that “even in anthropology, with its traditional core focus on kinship and the making of culture, adoption (except in faraway places like

Oceania) has been oddly absent.” (Volkman 2003b:4).

As Volkman implies, this is surprising given that intercountry adoption is intricately connected with society’s ideas about race, culture, ethnicity, kinship, and belonging to family and to nation. Anthropological and sociological literature on intercountry and transracial adoption in Australia also appears to have only emerged in recent years

(Gray 1999; Gray 2007; Human Rights and Equal Opportunities Commission 1997;

Telfer 2000a; Telfer 2000b; Telfer 2003; Williams 2001; Williams 2003).

‘Bananas, Bastards and Victims’? 21

Intercountry adoption is also “about the politics of sending and receiving countries, poor and rich, powerless and powerful” (Volkman 2003b:4). Indeed Strong (2002) seems to capture the complexities involved when she says “adoption across political and cultural borders may simultaneously be an act of violence and an act of love, an excruciating rupture and a generous incorporation, an appropriation of valued resources and a constitution of personal ties” (Volkman 2003:4).

It is no surprise then that intercountry adoption has been surrounded by controversy in

Australia as in other Western nations. However, the complexities and ambivalences surrounding the institution of intercountry adoption have often been reduced to polarised debates where individual adoption writers, social workers, policy makers, adoptive parents, and adoptees take (often extreme) for or against positions (Gray

1999). Ivor Gaber and Jane Aldridge speaking about transracial adoption in the British context believe that “it has assumed a significance out of all proportion to the actual numbers involved in such placements” and “in the extreme it is viewed as a form of exploitation which at its heart comes down to a form of genocide – black children are being ‘stolen’ from the black community to provide childless white couples with ready- made families” (Gaber 1994b:1). Similar debates have raged in the United States and to some extent in Australia where past welfare practices in relation to indigenous children and the ‘stolen generations’ have influenced policy and practice in this country

(Gray 1999).

However, the numbers of children arriving in individual Western nations for the purpose of adoption differ significantly as do the policies and practices of individual receiving nations. In the United States context, the 1990s saw a substantial increase in the numbers of children entering the country for the purpose of adoption. Toby Volkman reports “immigrant orphan visas issued by the U.S. Immigration and Naturalization

Services nearly tripled between 1991 and 2001, from 7,093 to 19,237. In the United ‘Bananas, Bastards and Victims’? 22

States alone, more than 139,000 children have been adopted internationally in the last ten years” (Volkman 2003b:1). Peter Selman in his demographic perspective of ‘The

Movement of Children for Intercountry Adoption’ reports “the availability and quality of data on continues to vary greatly between receiving countries.”

He estimates however, that the total number of intercountry adoptions in the 1990s

“show a substantial increase in overseas adoption – from 19,327 in 1988 to 31,856 by

1997-9 – reflecting mainly the sharp rise in children going to the United States.”

(Selman 2001:5).

In Australia, by contrast, the number of intercountry adoption placements throughout the 1990s steadily decreased with 338 intercountry adoption placements in 1991 and just 289 in 2001, a total of 2,633 for the ten year period (AIHW 2001). Peter Selman compares the number of intercountry adoptions in thirteen receiving countries for the year 1998 by mapping the number of adoptions per 1,000 live births. Norway and

Sweden show the highest number with 11.2 and 10.8 respectively while Australia shows the second lowest to the United Kingdom with 1.0 intercountry adoptions per

1,000 births (Selman 2001:8). Selman’s more recent statistics for the year 2004 in

Australia show a small increase to 1.5 intercountry adoptions per 1,000 live births

(Selman 2007:5). Recent figures from the Australian Institute of Health and Welfare also show an increase to 421 placements for the year 2005-06 reflecting an increase in the number of children adopted from China (from one child at the commencement of the programme in 2000 to 116 children in 2005-6, around thirty percent of all intercountry adoptions to Australia that year) (AIHW 2006:38). However, in future years the number of arrivals in Australia will be restricted by changes to the two main sending countries, Korea and China. Following changes in Korean government legislation aimed at increasing the number of local adoptions, Eastern Social Welfare Society in

South Korea advised in 2006 that no new adoption application files can be sent at this time. In China, the China Centre of Adoption Affairs (CCAA) has also recently ‘Bananas, Bastards and Victims’? 23

implemented stricter age and health criteria as well as not allowing single people to adopt, in an attempt to curb the number of applications received (mostly from the

United States).

It is important to mention, then, that variations in adoption placements are determined by policies and social practices in both sending and receiving countries. However, while a certain amount has been written in the United States, Britain and some

Scandinavian countries, about the political and social context of intercountry and transracial adoption within these countries, there has been little if any recognition or analysis of the differing political, social and cultural contexts of other receiving nations such as Australia.

Recent postcolonial and cultural studies literature on intercountry adoption has provided a much needed wider framework in which to analyse the complexities of the intercountry adoption experience. While psychological literature has enabled us to explore the ‘life stages’ that adoptees are expected to go through and questions about the ‘adjustment’ and ‘attachment’ issues associated with the adoption experience, postcolonial, poststructural and cultural studies approaches allow adoptee experiences to be placed in the broader global experience of displacement and negotiation of complex identities in a world divided by powerful ideologies intricately linked to economics, race, culture and religion. Eleana Kim, for example, referring to Herrmann and Kasper (1992) and Sarri, Baik and Bombyk (1998), discusses the global movement of Korean adoptees and political pressure from within and outside the country, dating from the 1970s, to reduce the number of foreign adoptions and promote domestic adoption. Kim says, “reportedly bringing in $15 to 20 million per year, adoption in South

Korea has become a business and a cost-effective way of dealing with social welfare problems” (Herrman 1992; Kim 2003:63-64; Sarri 1998).

‘Bananas, Bastards and Victims’? 24

Some postcolonial writers urge us to consider the and devastation of our colonial past and how it impacts on our postcolonial future and on the lives of all postcolonial ‘others’ including adoptees (Ahulwalia 2004; Hubinette 2004). They have taken a broad brush approach to compare international adoption with other postcolonial diasporic movements. For example, Hubinette argues that “adopted fit well into [Robin] Cohen’s (1997) category of a ‘victim diaspora’ defined as an involuntary displacement caused by catastrophic and traumatic events, namely international adoption. I am thus equating the adopted Koreans with such generic and classical diasporas as the Jewish (severe persecution), the African (forcible transferral), the Irish

(mass poverty), the Armenian (genocidal experience)…” (Hubinette 2004:22). Similarly,

Ahulwalia compares the experiences of descendants of African-American slaves with transnationally adopted children to suggest that “for both, there is an overwhelming desire to establish a connection with their origins in order to come to terms with the past and to gain some understanding of their identity” (Ahulwalia 2004:3).

Other recent anthropological writers on the topic have used empirical evidence from adoptee narratives to speak about how issues of loss, belonging, authenticity and the mythology of roots are played out in the lives of adoptees (Kim 2003; Patton 2000;

Volkman 2003b; Yngvesson 2003; Yngvesson 2000). Analysis of the intercountry adoption literature also requires a consideration of the researcher’s subjective position and questions about who should speak for whom. I will briefly touch on this in the next section and further elaborate on my position as an adoptive parent researcher in the methodology chapter to follow.

Politics of Representation and Interpretation

In the past much of the literature on adoptee experiences from most academic disciplines and in the wider community has been written by adoptive parents and by those outside the adoption triangle (birth parents, adoptees, adoptive parents). ‘Bananas, Bastards and Victims’? 25

However, the issue of ‘who should speak for whom’ has been addressed in recent times by intercountry and other adoptees who have asserted their right to speak of their own experiences (Cherot 2006; Hubinette 2004; Patton 2000; Williams 2003). Sandra

Patton, a white adoptee, says that, “while a number of studies of transracial adoption exist, most have focussed on the “adjustment” of adoptees and have only addressed racial identity in limited ways. Remarkably little attention has been paid to how Black and multiracial adoptees raised by White parents articulate their own identities” (Patton

2000:2). Similarly, Natalie Cherot writing about the American-Vietnamese community suggests that “missing from the transnational adoption literature is the description of how adoptees perceive themselves within the structure of international adoption”

(Cherot 2006). Indigo Williams, an Australian-Vietnamese adoptee who wrote a

Masters thesis on the experiences of adopted Vietnamese in some Western countries, suggests that “the absence of research featuring adopted Vietnamese perspectives and context is partly because the adoptees have only now reached an age where they can offer mature insights into their experiences”. (Williams 2003:22).

Toby Volkman describes eloquently the methodological dilemmas associated with adoptive parents writing about the adoptee experience when she says:

We live daily with these ambivalences and ambiguities and have struggled with how to position our research and writing: how to cast an eye that is both critical and sympathetic, attuned to our own profoundly personal connections to these questions and to an analysis of the cultural and political contexts within which adoption must be situated” (Volkman 2003b:4).

Indeed an individual adoption writer’s subjective position influences the questions asked, the interpretive processes and the conclusions drawn and therefore needs to be read only as a partial, incomplete and culturally specific account. I explained a little about my subjective experience as an adoptive parent in the Introduction. Like

Volkman, I have also struggled with how to write about adoptee experiences which are sometimes intensely painful to hear, at other times enormously uplifting, but always ‘Bananas, Bastards and Victims’? 26

thought-provoking and have forced me to reassess my assumptions as well as my privileged position as a white non-adoptee researcher.

The subjective position of individual adoption researchers seems not only to impact on the interpretative and analytical research process but also impacts on the way their writing is critiqued. For example, Patton’s work has been criticised by some transracial adoptees (though applauded by other transracial adoptees) because as a white adoptee, it is argued, Patton could have little understanding of what it means to live a black life in America. While it is necessary to be aware of individual writers’ subjective positions, it is perhaps more important to consider the ‘author’s intention’ in writing about the subject. As Denzin suggests in his chapter on ‘The Practices and Policies of

Interpretation’, “those who write culture must learn to use language in a way that brings people together” (Denzin 2003a:460). Thus, to me writing is about the empowerment of those who are involved in the project. My reflections as a white adoptive parent writing about adoptee experiences and further consideration of the ‘author’s intention’ is explored in the methodological chapter following.

Before discussing methodology, however, it seems worthwhile to consider how the issue of racial and cultural identity in relation to intercountry adoptees has been addressed in the literature.

‘Cultural Identity’ in Intercountry Adoptee Literature

One thinks of identity whenever one is not sure of where one belongs; that is, one is not sure how to place oneself among the evident variety of behavioural styles and patterns, and how to make sure that people around would accept this placement as right and proper, so that both sides would know how to go on in each other’s presence. ‘Identity’ is a name given to the escape sought from that uncertainty (Bauman 1996:19).

‘Bananas, Bastards and Victims’? 27

Cultural and racial identity features prominently in literature on intercountry adoption where it has been discussed and problematised either at an individual or familial level or alternatively generalised as a postcolonial condition.

In the first approach, quantitative methods and survey questionnaires have been used to study the ‘adjustment’ of transracially adopted children into White families

(Brodzinsky 1990; Grow 1974; Simon 1994; Simon 1977; Simon 1992; Tizard 1994). In the second, transracial adoptees are compared to other postcolonial movements and labelled as a “victim diaspora”. How adoptees negotiate issues of racial difference in the specific socio-political, historical and cultural contexts of individual receiving countries is missing from these accounts.

Qualitative studies on adoptee narratives relating to issues of cultural identity, have just started to emerge in recent years in American studies such as Meier’s (1998) Loss and

Reclaimed Lives: Cultural Identity and Place in Korean-American Intercountry

Adoptees, Patton’s (2000), ‘ Birthmarks: Transracial Adoption in Contemporary

America’ and in Australia, Williams’s writing on Vietnamese children adopted into

White families, Not Quite/Just the Same/Different: The Construction of Identity in

Vietnamese War Orphans Adopted by White Parents (Meier 1998, Patton 2000;

Williams 2001; Williams 2003). Adoptees voices on issues of cultural and racial identity are also now being heard in anthologies, documentaries and film (Armstrong 2001;

Bancroft 2000; Cox 1999; Duc 2004b; Franco 2002; Hoang 2004) as well as on internet websites and listservs.

An Australian anthology which has done much to inform the adoption community and more significantly inform government policy is The Colour of Difference: Journeys in

Transracial Adoption. This anthology which includes the stories of twenty seven adoptees, some Australian-born transracial adoptees and other intercountry adoptees, ‘Bananas, Bastards and Victims’? 28

was published in 2001 and provided much needed adult adoptee perspectives on adoption and race in the Australian context.

Many of the themes which emerged from the anthology and are mentioned in the

‘Introduction’ are consistent with themes in my research although as an anthology, the book is not intended to present a sociological analysis of adoptee accounts. However, there is a need for such varied adoptee experiences (the book participants range in age from 17 to 54) to be given a socio-political, cultural and historical framework in which to be better understood. Similarly, adoptive parents “attitudes” to adoption issues require contextual analysis for greater understanding. For example, a section in the

Introduction titled ‘What have they (adoptees) told us about what makes transracial adoption work?’, suggests that “the largest single factor appears to be the adoptive family’s attitude to the child’s race and their commitment to maintaining a positive sense of the child’s racial identity” (Armstrong 2001:24). Without analysis of the socio- cultural and political context, identity issues tend to be reduced to the single issue of race and how individual families have/or haven’t addressed issues of racial difference.

This disregards how issues of racial difference are transmitted through numerous cultural processes and how particular social institutions and government processes may influence and affect adoptees’ lives.

It seems that Sandra Patton is correct in asserting that racial identity in relation to transracial adoption has only been written about in limited ways. Writing in the context of United States adoption policies and practices about the adoption of African-

American children into White families, she suggests that “most of the existing literature on transracial adoption has relied on quantitative methods or survey questionnaires” which “while valid as far as they go…are limited by methodological practices that approach race as a fixed category and limit the scope of inquiry to the individual and familial levels” (Patton 2000:5). ‘Bananas, Bastards and Victims’? 29

Indeed, Patton’s concerns about approaching “race as a fixed category” appear to echo arguments in my earlier intercountry adoption research about adoptive families experiences of the adoption process in Australia (Gray 1999). Like Patton I am questioning the position of some positivist adoption researchers whose methods may preclude an understanding of how culture is transmitted within a social structure divided on racial lines. I am also concerned with the way ‘identity’ in relation to adoptees has been reduced to discussions about racial origins and ‘roots’ which disregards how specific socio-political and cultural contexts impact on the way adoptees negotiate their multi-layered, ever-changing, socially constructed identities.

Cultural identity in relation to intercountry adoptees and displaced others has come to mean, in popular and in official rhetoric, racial identity or ‘ethnic’ belonging. As David

Goldberg suggests, we have come “to conceive of social subjects foremost in racial terms” although this has not always been the primary definition of social subjectivity

(Goldberg 1993:1). There is a tendency to essentialist discussions which situate ‘race’ above all other aspects of identity construction and minimise or ignore how other issues such as class and gender positions, disability, geographic locality, neighbourhood networks or even social groupings relating to age or interests may intersect with racial positions.

Paul Gilroy in his discussion of transracial adoption in Britain warns that we should “be wary of reifying race and ethnicity so that they appear as things rather than processes”.

He goes on to say that “in this view, ‘race’ is culture and identity rather than profane politics and complex history” (Gilroy 1994: xii). In my view, the way ‘race’ is transmitted through cultural processes, the way ‘race’ intersects with all other aspects of adoptees’ identities has not been adequately discussed particularly in official, popular and academic writing about intercountry adoption in Australia. ‘Bananas, Bastards and Victims’? 30

‘Identity Confusion’ and Intercountry Adoptees

I guess I still go through different stages where I question my identity in terms of race, but like everyone also, I question my identity in other areas of my life as well, such as where I fit in my family, my work, my friends" (Vietnamese-Australian adoptee – Age 28).

Adoptees have often been described in academic literature as well as in popular discourse as subject to ‘identity confusion’ or as suffering an ‘identity crisis’ about their adoptive status because they have been removed from their culture of birth. The dominant popular narrative surrounding adoption stories consistently suggests that adoptees can never know ‘who they really are’, can never escape their ‘identity confusion’ until they search for their ‘roots’ and reconnect with their birth families.

Barbara Yngvesson says, “in the world of intercountry adoption, two stories predominate: a story of abandonment and a story about roots” (Yngvesson 2003:7).

Yngvesson sees the two stories portrayed as being mutually exclusive – the first implying that the story of loss can be transformed into a new life story, a new family and new nation, a supposed ‘clean break’. The story about roots however, which emerged with the Hague Convention in the 1990s, suggests that children have a right to the preservation of their “ethnic, religious and cultural background” and that “identity is associated with a root or ground of belonging that is inside the child (as ‘blood’,

‘primal connectedness’ and ‘identity hunger’) (Lifton 1994)…but it is also outside the child in the sense that it is assumed to tie her to others whom she is like…and a psychological need for the adopted child to return to where she really belongs”

(Yngvesson 2003:7).

In her discussion, which considers the return narratives of Chilean-born, Swedish adoptees and their adoptive parents, Yngvesson proposes an alternative to “the narrative of exclusive belonging” which suggests that “no one of them (adoptees, adoptive parents, birth parents) is free standing vis-à-vis the others, but that there is a ‘Bananas, Bastards and Victims’? 31

pull toward the other parent, the other nation” and that “these trips…unsettle the idea that such journeys of self-realisation are likely to produce completion for the adoptee, or that they constitute a ‘journey towards wholeness’ (Lifton 1994)” (Yngvesson

2003:9). Return narratives allow for other readings as well. They allow us to consider the way socio-political and cultural contexts have impacted adoptees’ decisions to travel to their country of birth, to consider the way official and popular rhetoric, family, peer groups, support groups, media representations and life experiences have influenced their decision making in regards to searching. The thesis will attempt to explore these issues through an analysis of Australian intercountry adoptee narratives.

My interest lies in analysing the intercountry adoptee experience in a more holistic, less polarised framework where discussion does not centre on whether or not intercountry and transracial adoption is ‘a humanitarian gesture’ or an ‘appropriation of valuable resources’. It can be both or neither of these things, or much more. Discussions which are polarised on ‘for’ or ‘against’, ‘us’ and ‘them’ lines do not allow openings to explore the ways the complexities of the intercountry adoption experience are played out. Such discussions do not allow adoptees to express the way issues like racial difference, racism, belonging, feelings about ‘authentic’ selves are experienced in particular cultural, historical and political contexts.

Dichotomous categories of ‘for’ or ‘against’ also do not allow adoptees and others to consider the way their experiences sometimes overlap with other cultural hybrids 7 such as the experiences of children of ‘mixed-race’ parents or second and third generation immigrant experiences of cultural difference and belonging. Much of the experience of being adopted and not living with your original family in your country of birth, as well as being racially different from family members and living in a white-dominated society

7 The postmodern concept of hybridity is related to “cultural globalisation in which cultural flows are seen to meet one another and form new combinations, hybrids, which are assumed to be a historical product of the increasing general globalisation of the world” (Friedman 1997:73). ‘Bananas, Bastards and Victims’? 32

may well be unique to the intercountry adoption experience. The aim of this study is to tease out the intricacies and ambiguities of the adoption experience and to place the experiences of some Australian intercountry adoptees in the broader postcolonial, poststructuralist global framework paying particular attention to the way Australian intercountry adoptees articulate their multiple identities and the particular roads they travel in Australian society.

Research Questions

The project asks a number of questions in relation to the way intercountry adoptees have experienced growing up in Australia throughout the late 1970s, 80s, 90s until the present day.

What does it mean to be an intercountry adoptee in Australia in the late 20 th – early 21 st century?

How have particular meanings and discourses about adoption, ‘race’, ‘culture’ and identity in relation to intercountry adoption changed over the last few decades?

Are intercountry adoptees always defined by their ‘racial difference’? Are there situations/contexts where race becomes less important?

Are there differences in the ways that the ‘older’ adult group have experienced issues of racial and cultural identity and other adoption issues compared to the ‘younger’ adolescent group?

How has Australia’s history of race relations and policies of assimilation and multiculturalism as well as policies relating to adoption in general and intercountry adoption in particular impacted adoptees’ lives? ‘Bananas, Bastards and Victims’? 33

How are the experiences of the adoptees in this study similar to/different than other cultural ‘hybrids’ such as children born into ‘mixed-race’ families and second and subsequent generations of Asian- Australian immigrants?

This chapter has suggested that intercountry adoptees’ experiences of ‘cultural’ and

‘racial’ identity has mostly been discussed at the individual or familial level or alternatively viewed as a postcolonial ‘condition’. Analysis of intercountry adoptee experiences has also been mainly contained within particular methodological practices which tend to view ‘race’ and ‘culture’ as fixed, unchanging categories or reduce identity construction to questions which only deal with ‘roots’ and ‘race’. In addition, attempts to view experiences of adoptees as either predetermined by biology or as a postcolonial ‘condition’ ignore the impact of particular socio-historical, cultural and political contexts on intercountry adoptees’ identity construction. My interest lies in better understanding how intercountry adoptees negotiate and articulate their own identities within various ‘communities’ and within the Australian context as well as considering how they share their ‘third space’ with some other transnational groups.

34

CHAPTER THREE

Methodology

A Qualitative Project

The use of a qualitative approach as a method of social inquiry should need no justification given the wide range of qualitative methods now used across a large number of social and behavioural science disciplines today. However, as Norman

Denzin and Yvonna Lincoln, explain, the positivist and post-positivist tradition which seeks to establish ‘cause and effect’ and emphasizes ‘the measurement and analysis of causal relationships between variables, not processes’ continues to ‘linger like long shadows over the qualitative research project’ (Denzin 2003b: 13-16). Indeed, early anthropologists’ use of ethnography as a research tool emerged from this positivist tradition, the idea that the social world could be observed and analysed ‘objectively’ and the research would remain value-free. But as Weber explained early last century, all research is influenced by the researcher’s moral and political beliefs. The researcher’s values not only influence the choice of research problem/questions but also affect the conclusions and implications of a particular study (Gubrium 1989:2).

Qualitative research has come a long way from the colonialist ethnocentric tradition of observing and documenting the social behaviour of the ‘other’ in his/her ‘natural’ environment. By the 1970s and 80s there was much discussion about the politics and ethics of qualitative research and writers such as Geertz were calling for a more pluralistic and interpretive method (Denzin 2003b:25; Geertz 1973; Geertz 1983).

Denzin and Lincoln describe the period in the mid-1980s as a ‘crisis of representation’ where issues such as the validity and reliability of research methods were once again under scrutiny by critical and feminist methodologies (Clifford 1986; Clifford 1988; Methodology 35

Marcus 1986; Rosaldo 1989). The last two decades have seen an emphasis on the researcher as a major player in the story rather than as a detached observer.

Insider and Outsider

My subjective position as an adoptive parent with a personal interest and knowledge about the intercountry adoption process places me as both an insider and an outsider

(as a non-adoptee researcher) to the adoptees in the study. My story is intricately linked with theirs. It is linked through my privileged position as a white, middle-class mother of two Korean-Australian children whose stories and experiences of ‘otherness’ will reflect, at least in part, the stories and experiences of the adoptees in this project.

However, my children’s stories, like the adoptees’ stories in this study, need to be culturally and historically contextualised. Their complex subject positions may also be reflected on and (re)interpreted differently by researchers both within the adoption

‘triangle’ (adoptees, adoptive parents, birth parents) and by ‘outside’ researchers.

Denzin speaks of how the ‘crisis of representation’ has moved qualitative research into new directions where writing is no longer the end stage of the research project but rather ‘a method of inquiry that moves through successive stages of self reflection’

(Denzin 2003b:27, Richardson 2003). Thus, the researcher’s early observations, data collection and analysis are not separate stages prior to the writing of the research report. Rather they merge and blur and inform the researcher’s knowledge about themselves. They are all part of the method of social inquiry which places the researcher, not as the ‘all-knowing’ expert or the detached observer but rather as an active participant in the ongoing interactions with respondents about the way the data may be reflected upon and interpreted.

As an adoptive parent researcher, my reflections and interpretations of the intercountry adoption experience began in the mid 1990s, in the early days of our adoption Methodology 36

experience as a family. Our experiences going through the long bureaucratic process to adopt our two children framed my earlier Honours research and subsequently propelled me to try to understand further the complexities involved in the lives of intercountry adoptees (Gray 1999).

Denzin speaks about Harrington, a journalist who is one of “a current generation of journalists…producing a new writing genre variously termed literary, intimate, or creative non fiction journalism” (Denzin 2003a:461). Harrington’s (1992) situation, as a white father to two African-American children holds particular resonance for me when I consider the way my story is entwined with my children’s reality and with the reality of other intercountry adoptees. Harrington’s children are not adopted, (his partner is

African-American) but his very personal reflections on how his children are positioned in American culture holds particular significance for the reality of my children’s life in

Australia. Harrington is describing how he is visiting a dentist and how he witnesses another visiting dentist share a racist joke with others in the room. The other white people present know that Harrington is the father of children “who are, as they describe themselves, tan and bright tan”. Harrington continues…”How many racist jokes have I heard in my life?...for the first time…I am struck with a deep pain. I look at this man, with his pasty face, pale hair and weak lips, and I think: this idiot is talking about my children!” Harrington goes on to say that…“Only when I became black by proxy – through my son…could I see the racism I had been willing to tolerate…”(Harrington

1992, Denzin, 2003:462-463).

The injustice of racism frames and informs Harrington’s writing as it does mine. The questions I ask, the interpretations and conclusions I draw, about transracial adoptee experiences will inescapably reflect my feelings about structural, cultural and personal inequalities present in Australian society. My writing about structural inequalities associated with race commenced more than a decade ago when as an undergraduate Methodology 37

sociology student I chose to interview a number of female Asian overseas students about how they experienced racial difference while studying at the University of

Newcastle. However, my experiences as a member of an interracial family have added a much deeper personal understanding of what it may mean to be racially different, different not only from the majority in the wider community, but also from those inside the family unit.

I also come with other biases. My position as an adoptive parent carries with it particular life experiences - experiences of infertility, experiences of working through the personal and political complexities involved in intercountry country adoption to decide whether adoption is in our best interests and more importantly in the best interests of the child, experiences of going through the long, frustrating bureaucratic process and being categorized along with all other adoptive parents as one of the

‘desperate infertile couples’ 8.

As I mentioned in the Introduction chapter, when I am with my children in the public arena I experience the curiosity and comments from strangers and acquaintances as they do. My ‘invisible’ status as a white woman in a predominantly white community diminishes and during that time I experience briefly what it may be like always to stand out as ‘other’, never to have the luxury of invisibility, as intercountry adoptees and others experience on a daily basis. However, I can never make the assumption that all adoptees see their status as inherently problematic. My methods of social inquiry need to be particularly rigorous and comprehensive to ensure the validity and reliability of my research findings, given the complexities associated with my insider and outsider status.

8 See Gray (1999) for more explanation about adoptive parent’s experiences of the intercountry adoption process in Australia. Methodology 38

Multiple Methods of Social Inquiry

While the core of this study is material provided by twenty intercountry adoptees, triangulation with data from a range of other sources ensured the reliability of the research findings. Triangulation, or the use of multiple methods to collect, analyse and interpret data is considered to be a valuable way to assist in confirming the reliability and quality of the data (Babbie 1989; Bryman 2001; Bulmer 1984; Burgess 1984;

Denzin 1970b; Denzin 1978; Denzin 1970a).

The study uses multiple methods of investigation which include in-depth longitudinal interviews, analysis of personal documents such as poetry and diary entries as well as adoptee writing in anthologies to build life histories. It includes participant observation at adoptee functions and other adoption gatherings and analysis of some documentary data in the form of adoptee stories in listservs, websites, adoption magazines and newspapers as well as other media presentations about intercountry adoption issues. It also draws on a number of government reports including a recent Federal Government inquiry into intercountry adoption in Australia, as a way to gain an understanding of some ‘official’ views on adoption. The use of listservs and collaboration with other researchers proved to be a worthwhile way to compare concepts which emerged from the interview data, from anthologies and from other documentary sources.

However, it has been suggested that triangulation or combining a number of ways to consider a research problem may be seen as an attempt to obtain a “true fix” on

“reality” and as such does not address issues of validity (Silverman 2000:177). As

Richardson suggests, we are now fortunate to be writing in a postmodernist climate where any universal or general claim to the ‘truth’ has been replaced by doubt. This does not mean that old methods of inquiry should be rejected but rather that they need to be subjected to greater scrutiny and a recognition that the knowledge we glean is Methodology 39

partial as well as locally, historically, culturally and politically situated (Richardson

2003).

Issues of validity then, need to be addressed in other ways. Silverman suggests the constant comparative method discussed by Glaser and Strauss (1967) and further explained by Strauss and Corbin (1990), a method which I have employed extensively in this study (Silverman 2000:179). I will discuss this further in the Data Interpretation and Analysis section of this chapter.

Defining the Research ‘Group’ – A Comparative Australian Focus

This study is primarily concerned with comparing the experiences of a group of adolescent and adult intercountry adoptees who reside in various states in Australia. In the early days of working through the focus of my research, I also considered comparing intercountry adoptee experiences to another group of non-adoptees in other interracial families in Australia. At this time, I presented a research proposal to a group of social science academics at my University. After describing why I chose to conduct a comparative study of people who were raised in intercountry adoptive families and people from other non-adopted interracial families and their experiences of ‘race’ and identity in Australian society, one academic observed, ‘yes…but why did you choose to compare these two groups rather than just study adoptees…the other group are not adopted’.

This suggestion seems to imply that the experience of being a member of an interracial family, about being racially different from most of those around you, about how you and your family feel you ‘fit’ into a predominantly white culture cannot be compared because in adoptive families, the children are being raised by someone other than their biological parents. Their adoption status then is seen as prohibiting adoptees from perhaps sharing similar experiences to those raised in other intercultural families? By Methodology 40

this reckoning, ‘adoption’ – meaning the experience of being orphaned or relinquished by one’s birthparent/s and being raised by another set of parents, makes them a group of people like no other and unable to be compared to any other.

Perhaps this suggestion has some validity. Perhaps intercountry adoptees are a group of people with a unique set of experiences who are unable to be compared to any other group in postmodern Western culture. But the suggestion drew me back once again to the way adoptees have often been pathologised in the literature and the way pathologising the ‘adoptee condition’ has impacted, not only on those in the adoption community but also on wider societal perceptions about adoption. I would not have been surprised if the suggestion had come from a social worker or an adoption worker, those people who are working with adoptees only and see them as a unique group.

However, the fact that another sociologist implied intercountry adoptees’ experiences could not be compared to any other group made me reassess my research plan.

Some time later in the data collection phase of the research I had the opportunity to join an international listserv made up of academics, researchers, adoption workers, adult adoptees and others interested in the field of intercountry adoption research. A frequent topic on this list was the experiences intercountry (transracial) adoptees share with other minority groups. On a macro level, the movement of children from Korea, for example, for the purpose of intercountry adoption has been compared to other movements of children in the history of migration. Discussion has included the movement of British children to the Empire’s colonies, American children who were brought by the ‘orphan train’ from the East Coast to the Midwest and the removal of indigenous Australian children from their families now known as the ‘stolen generations’. The extent to which international adoption can be compared to other large-scale movements of children remains the subject of lively debate. I mentioned in Methodology 41

the literature review in the previous chapter how some postcolonial adoption theorists are addressing these issues.

However, large-scale generalist comparisons are not my main area of interest. While it is obviously necessary to understand and critically assess the impact of colonisation and imperialist traditions on the area of intercountry adoption and on the lives of adoptees, comparisons of this large scale nature sometimes tend to generalise, swallowing up particular political, social, historical and economic contexts, and reducing complexities and difference to discourses of victimisation. I am interested in the complexities, contradictions and fluidity of intercountry adoptees’ lives whilst also being aware that they are part of a much broader canvas impacted by numerous, contradictory and sometimes overlapping discourses about postcolonial identity construction in the last decades of the twentieth and early years of the twenty-first centuries.

So, what is my aim in embarking on a comparative study? I am predominantly interested in the way issues associated with ’race’ ‘culture’ and identity are played out in the lives of intercountry adoptees in Australia. A qualitative, comparative project on the lived experience of intercountry adoptees from a range of countries, residing in a number of states of Australia has not been conducted to date.

The core group of twenty intercountry adoptees in this study includes seven adoptees from Vietnam, eight from South Korea, three from Sri Lanka and two Malaysian adoptees. Three of the adoptees are male – two from Korea and one from Vietnam.

They range in age from 14 to 34 at the time they were first interviewed. The adoptees fall roughly into two groups – a ‘younger’ group of nine who are between the ages of 14 and 21 and an ‘older’ group of eleven are between the ages of 26 and 34. With the exception of one Vietnamese who came to Australia at age five, all the adoptees who Methodology 42

participated were under two years of age on arrival. The study also includes narratives from some Australian adoptive parents and other adoptee accounts from electronic correspondence, listservs, websites, anthologies, documentaries, as well as adoptive support group newsletters and magazines.

The participants in this study are a diverse group. They were born in a number of different countries and they arrived at different points in Australia’s history, the circumstances which led to their arrival in Australia differ, they live in various neighbourhoods across four states of Australia and the dynamics of their adoptive families differ. However, they all share the label of ‘intercountry adoptee’. The label carries with it assumptions and particular meanings about what it means to be an intercountry adoptee but also encompasses obvious ‘racial’ differences between the adoptee and their (usually) white family and the broader white dominant culture. My interest then, is mainly in comparing the experiences of individual intercountry adoptees with others in the adoptee research group, how they have experienced growing up in multicultural Australia and how they have negotiated and resisted imposed categories within specific political, social and historical contexts.

Nevertheless, while my main focus is on the diversity of intercountry adoptee experiences, their experience of otherness also needs to be placed in the broader context of postcolonial identity construction. Thus, in an effort to escape the sometimes essentialist and pathologising discourse which surrounds discussions about adoption, I would also like to consider how some of their experiences in relation to racial difference, feelings of ‘otherness’ and their ‘hybrid’ status may be similar to those of people in other interracial (non-adopted) Australian families and other transnational families. To this end, I wish also to examine some of the literature on issues of cultural identity in relation to other interracial families and some transnational ‘communities’ in Methodology 43

Australia and how they may be similar to and different from intercountry adoptive family experiences.

Collaboration with Other Adoption Researchers

The international adoption research listserv referred to earlier provided a wonderful opportunity to engage in dialogue with other researchers, adult adoptees and others interested in the field in international adoption. As sociological intercountry adoption research is in its infancy in Australia and there are only a small number of people who are involved in research on the topic here, a listserv like this one enables participants to engage in discussion about relevant issues and network with researchers from within their own academic discipline and with other related disciplines around the world. This listserv has also provided the opportunity to discuss with members of the adoption community issues such as the appropriateness of particular research, how particular research affects the lives of young adoptees still to reach maturity.

Other adult adoptee listservs have also discussed these issues and provide another excellent source of comparative data on discussions within the adult adoptee ‘group’.

The opening quote from a Korean-American adoptee in the previous chapter for example, highlighted one adoptee’s frustration at the victimization discourse present in some adoption discussions and how this may impact on the next generation of adoptees. Another adult Korean-American adoptee asked questions about whether academic research can assist her to cope with the realities of her life:

I guess what I would like to see is the news I can use. What postmodern, postcolonial etc. theory will bring real change to my life? What definition of race will make people stop asking me where I'm from, will make me not have to choose between what I think is my race and my American family? What will trickle down from academia into the real world and make our trips to the post office more pleasant? (Korean Adoptees Worldwide listserv – May 2003).

The above quote from the Korean-American adoptee impels me once again to consider the importance of allowing theory to emerge from the empirical data as Glaser and Methodology 44

Strauss suggest (Glaser and Strauss 1967). It is not about making the data ‘fit’ some grander postmodern or postcolonial theory, but rather allowing adoptees to tell their own stories in their own way, allowing themes and concepts to emerge and uncovering the meanings about being an ‘intercountry adoptee’ at this particular time and place in history.

Recruitment of Participants and Data Collection

Participants were recruited by contacting key organisers of Intercountry Adoptee

Support Network (ICASN), an on-line support service for Australian international adoptees, and other non-government adoptive family support services across Australia.

The organisations wrote to their membership requesting those who were interested in participating in the project to contact the researcher. In the early days of recruitment I was mostly contacted by Vietnamese adoptees in the ‘older’ age group from a number of states who were keen to tell their story. However, in 2002 I attended an adolescent intercountry adoptee seminar organized by Australian Society of Intercountry Aid for

Children (NSW) (ASIAC) in and afterwards asked the organisers if they would send the details of my study to the attendees on my behalf. This enabled me to recruit some younger participants. Throughout 2003 and in 2004 other adoptees were recruited with the assistance of Adoptions International of Western Australia and through expressions of interest in the project by adoptees at an Adoption Conference in

Adelaide. By this time I had recruited a similar number in both groups (nine in the

‘younger’ group and eleven in the ‘older’ group) across five states - Queensland, New

South Wales, Victoria, South Australia, Western Australia and the ACT. However, I was only able to recruit three male participants. Adoptee experiences were also sourced from anthologies, email lists, television documentaries, radio programmes, adoptee magazines and newsletters which enabled me to hear a wider diversity of experiences.

Methodology 45

Qualitative data were collected primarily by the use of semi-structured, in-depth interviews via electronic correspondence, face-to-face interviews and phone interviews over a period of twelve months from the end of 2001 until the end of 2002. As mentioned previously, additional participants were recruited in 2003 and throughout

2004 with follow-up email interviews conducted with some of the earlier participants at this time. Interviews were also conducted with some of the Korean adoptees’ parents.

A number of the adoptees provided their personal documents such as diary entries, poetry, speeches given at public gatherings on adoption and recollections of travelling to their birth country. These first-hand accounts provided an additional rich source of data.

The interviews focused on adoptees’ recollections of growing up in an interracial family in multicultural Australia, school and community experiences of racism, issues of cultural identity, how adoptees negotiated and resisted others’ attempts to categorise them and how their complex identities are continually changing. While most of the adoptees share some similar experiences in relation to issues of adoption and issues of racial and cultural difference, key differences also emerged from the narrative accounts of adult adoptees in their late twenties and early thirties describing their early years when compared to the experiences of adoptees aged between 14 and 21.

Participant observation methods were used at a number of adoptee gatherings such as an Adolescent Korean Adoptee seminar and the Saet Byol Korean Adoptive Families culture camp held each year in Sydney. In April 2004 I attended the 8 th Australian

Adoption Conference in Adelaide, South Australia, which allowed networking opportunities with other adoption researchers and an opportunity to observe political alliances and the way different interest ‘groups’ in the broader adoption community interacted during the three days of the conference. More importantly, the conference allowed me to meet a number of adult adoptees who had participated in my study two Methodology 46

years previous and who had now moved further on in their adoption journey. I recorded field notes after the gatherings which were later coded and analysed. The adoption gatherings also allowed collection of additional data from key organisers of adoptee activities and representatives from adoptive family support groups.

Anthologies used include ‘The Colour of Difference: Journeys in Transracial Adoption’

(Armstrong, 2001), a collection of stories by Australian-born transracial adoptees and intercountry adoptees. In the United States, Korean and Vietnamese adoptee stories were sourced from web sites and Korean and Vietnamese adoption experiences from anthologies such as ‘Voices from Another Place: A collection of works from a generation born in Korean and adopted to other countries’ (Cox, 1999) and ‘Hanh Trinh

Tuoi Tre - Journey of Youth’ , a Vietnamese-Canadian publication about generations living and growing up away from their country of birth.

Additional data was sourced from Korean Adoptees Worldwide (KAW), a listserv set up as a support network for adult Korean adoptees in all Western countries to discuss similarities and differences in their life experiences. This information, gathered over an

18 month period during 2002 and 2003, was mainly used as a source of comparison to the experiences of the Australian adoptees in this study. It enabled themes which emerged from KAW discussions to be checked against themes from my interview data.

For example, a common theme throughout KAW discussions was the amount /or lack of contact with other Korean people during their childhood and adolescent years. How does this compare with the experiences of my participants? What level of contact did they have with other members of their birth countries?

Ethical Issues

The support groups and non-government adoption agencies contacted were provided with an Information Sheet about the project and were requested to distribute the Methodology 47

Information Sheets to members of their groups who met the research criteria. They were advised that participation in the project was entirely voluntary and that participants were to be made aware that the project was from the University of

Newcastle and was not connected with any adoption group or agency.

Adoptees who were interested in participating in the process contacted me and I informed them once again of the voluntary nature of their involvement and that they were able to refuse to answer any question/s, could ask that information they had given not be included in the research and were able to pull out of the project at any time.

Pseudonyms were used to maintain anonymity. The Information Sheet stated that I was aware of the sensitive nature of the issues involved and this understanding was reiterated throughout the interview process. In response to my concern that I may have been asking too many personal questions a participant responded:

Glad to be of some assistance and don't feel you are asking too many Qs as I will just say if it is too hard. In fact if anything this is helping me express things I have never said for fear of hurting people's feelings. At least here I can say things that are not politically correct, (are) selfish, childish or just plain horrible to say without repercussions .

I also requested participants to ask any questions they wished about the project or about my personal interest in the research topic, for example:

Please let me know if there are things in the Information Sheet that need clarification or if there are any other questions you wish to ask me. I’ll use a pseudonym so what would you like to be called?” (Email letter to Ana, 3 May 2002).

Feel free to ask anything you like at any time during our ‘talks’ (Email letter to David and his mother, August 2001).

A number of the participants asked for information about my previous intercountry adoption research and also wanted to know about my family. For example, as part of our conversations I made mention of some adoption related activity that my children were involved in and some participants used this as an opportunity to advise me about Methodology 48

what they did/did not like about their involvement in adoption groups and how they thought I could best help my children in this situation.

Electronic In-Depth Interviewing

While some participants in the study were interviewed in a ‘face-to-face’ situation or by phone, a significant amount of the interview data was collected through a series of email letters. Some of the respondents interviewed electronically were also interviewed face-to-face or by phone.

Electronic interviewing is still in its infancy and has predominantly been used for quantitative research and for structured questionnaires. Andrea Fontana and James

Frey address the pitfalls of this method suggesting that issues such as “reading non- verbal behaviour or of cuing gender, race, age and class and other personal characteristics” as well as “establishing the interviewer-interviewee ‘relationship’…is difficult, if not impossible” (Fontana 2003:97). Christine Hine, in her review of social research methods and the internet refers to writers who have addressed practical and ethical issues associated with electronic interviewing (Hine 2004). She refers to Chen and Hinton (1999) and Madge and O’Connor (2001) who discuss ‘real-time’ electronic interviewing and the use of conferencing software (Chen 1999; O'Connor 2001). It seems that few are writing about the sort of longitudinal in-depth interviewing that I employed in my previous Honours degree research and in this study. Fontana and Frey are sceptical about whether “electronic interviewing will allow researchers to obtain

‘thick descriptions’…and whether such interviewing will provide the ‘process context’ so important to qualitative interviews” (Fontana 2003:98).

Nicola Illingworth discusses the utilisation of email letters as a primary data source and her research experiences seem to mirror mine to a large extent. Illingworth uses a feminist methodological approach to interview women who are involuntarily childless. Methodology 49

She says that using this approach in an online setting “allowed for a developed degree of interaction, reflexivity, disclosure and trust to develop within the research relationship” She goes on to highlight the benefits of the level of anonymity that this method allows but mentions how “researcher and respondent self-disclosure was crucial to the formation…of meaningful relationships with respondents” (Illingworth

2001). Similarly, Ruth Frankenberg, in her study on the social construction of white womens’ attitudes to issues of race used a “dialogical” approach, that is, positioned herself “as explicitly involved in the questions” and shared information about herself and her ideas in relation to racism in an attempt to democratise the research process

(Frankenberg 1993:29).

As in my previous research I found that providing participants with some socio- demographic information about myself contributed to establishing rapport and a level of trust which allowed our ‘conversations’ to yield extremely rich, in-depth accounts of the adoptee experience. The feminist approach to interviewing described by Anne Oakley,

Ruth Frankenberg and others embraces a non-hierarchical relationship between the interviewee and interviewer (Frankenberg 1993; Oakley 1981); see also (Bryman 2001;

Burgess 1984; Fontana 2003). This method encouraged a certain degree of openness and freedom to express personal views and allowed greater insight into the lives of adoptees.

llingworth’s (2001) respondents found the research process empowering, a response I also heard from a number of my participants. However, as Illingworth and others suggest, there is a need to be aware of the danger in simply transferring existing methodological tools online. Such methods can never replace face-to-face interactions and issues such as Fontana and Frey’s (2003) concern about the ‘process context’ needs to be addressed. My electronic interview data also exposed significant gender differences. The majority of the females in the study were mostly happy to ‘chat’ Methodology 50

in-depth about a range of issues whereas the three males in the study were much more direct and brief in their comments. Additional data was obtained by phone with the adult male respondent, and in face-to-face conversations and by numerous email letters with the adoptive mothers of the two adolescent male participants.

The interviews with individual participants were conducted over a period of many weeks, sometimes months with follow-up contact with some of the participants a year or two after the original interviews had ceased. As in my Honours research, the lengthy interview process allowed more time for participants to think through what they wished to say and to respond in their own time. It also enabled me to ask numerous follow-up questions, to check my interpretations with respondents and to clarify any areas which required greater understanding. I chose to ask a small number of questions at a time and then from the responses drew on issues which seemed to be the most important to each participant. This allowed individual stories to be told in the way each participant wished but also enabled coverage of all the areas which needed to be examined.

Electronic interviewing was also chosen as a way to contact adoptees living in various states of Australia as funding was not available to travel any significant distance.

The responses from participants about this method were largely positive. Most appreciated the opportunity to talk about very personal issues in their lives with a

‘virtual’ stranger. Electronic interviews also reduced the amount of barriers presented by the visible differences between researcher and participant. As mentioned previously, as a white, female adoptive parent I was very aware of my outsider status in relation to the group I was studying. To many of the younger adoptees I was old enough to be their mother but they seemed to ‘speak’ to me in email letters as they would to their peers, using expressions and language they may not have felt comfortable using in a face-to-face situation. Methodology 51

It is worthwhile at this point to consider some of the comments from adoptees about how they found the interview process.

A Vietnamese adoptee, My Dung (pronounced My Yoong), age 29, talked about how my questions have inspired her to look at the issues in greater depth – how the process has been a learning and growth experience:

Well Kim, I do hope this has helped with your research. I have certainly appreciated the opportunity to explore these issues for myself, which I am becoming more and more open to and a lot more accepting of my heritage.

Ana, a Vietnamese adoptee, age 29 also described how the interview process had encouraged her to think through issues. The electronic correspondence has been written by many like a diary, a multitude of experiences recorded in detail which can be referred to whenever they wish to look at them. A number of participants mentioned how cathartic the writing process was. Ana used the stories she wrote to me to refer to whenever she needed to speak publicly about adoption and how it has affected her life.

She says:

To be honest, I've impressed myself at my ability to look within too! I only talk about this stuff if some stranger asks me to. God knows I haven't discussed any of this information with my parents or anyone close. For some reason I am able to open up completely and honestly with strangers. My parents have recognised this is often the case. They're so great!!...I'm really honoured to be able to share my kooky thoughts with people, if it helps them in some way. It's extremely cathartic for me, so I'm ecstatic to answer as many questions as you or anyone cares to ask.

Josie, age 16, mentioned, as others did, that this project gave her the opportunity to talk about adoption issues that she previously has not had the opportunity to do. She says:

Well, I hope I've helped in some way. I'm actually a little excited about this (because) I've never had a chance to talk about this stuff with anyone else before.

Like Ana, age 29, a number of other adoptees spoke about how much easier it is for them to talk to a ‘stranger’ rather than someone close to them. Some also suggested Methodology 52

that they would not feel comfortable sharing some of their personal accounts to me in person. Electronic interviews allowed a certain degree of anonymity and was far less confronting for many adoptees. Melody, age 20, was one adoptee who mentioned after our first face-to-face interview that she would prefer to correspond with me via email.

She says:

Sorry about taking so long to get back to you. I wanted to think about the questions first before I wrote anything; one of the advantages of doing this via e-mail. Is that ok? I wasn't sure how long you wanted my answers to be or how detailed, so I just wrote what I thought.

It would seem that the use of email interviewing in this study was largely successful because of the use of multiple methods and strategies to collect and analyse data. In this way, online interviewing is just one facet of the research process. Email interviewing was used in conjunction with face-to-face interviews, interviews by phone, participant observation at adoptee and adoptive family gatherings and by ongoing comparative analysis with data from other sources throughout all stages of the research project. This included comparing themes and concepts in anthologies and adoptees’ stories in other forms of print and electronic media and adoptee listservs.

Data Interpretation and Analysis

Interpretation and analysis of data commenced in the very early stages of the research process. Consideration of the intercountry adoption literature and other literature on postcolonial theory and critical race theory yielded early abstract themes as did my prior experiences in researching the subject of intercountry adoption. These early themes assisted in the construction of meaningful questions to adoptees which constituted the primary source of data.

During the interview process I constantly checked my understanding and interpretations of the interview material with individual participants. The process of Methodology 53

respondent validation or providing participants with an account of what was said in the interviews, and perhaps providing preliminary findings which can be adjusted according to responses from participants, is considered by some to be a problematic part of a qualitative project (Bryman 2001). Alan Bryman, for example, assesses the difficulties involved in this procedure suggesting that “it is highly questionable whether research participants can validate a researcher’s analysis, since this entails inferences being made for an audience of social science peers…and it is unlikely that the social science analysis will be meaningful to research participants” (Bryman 2001:273).

Similarly, David Silverman suggests that respondent validation is a “flawed method” and says “of course, the subjects we study can, if we ask them, give us an account of the context of their actions. The problem only arises if we attribute a privileged status to that account” (Silverman 2000:177). Silverman cites Fielding and Fielding (1986) who state“…such feedback cannot be taken as direct validation or refutation of the observer’s inferences. Rather such processes of so-called ‘validation’ should be treated as yet another source of data and insight” (Silverman 2000).

Nevertheless, some participants in the study showed considerable sociological insight by being able to place their own experiences in the context of ‘growing up in the eighties’ or by discussing the way their feelings about ‘being different’ fitted into the broader cultural context of the time. Other informants with a background in the social sciences proved to be a wonderful source of information and feedback which assisted in the analysis of concepts and reassessment of the project’s direction. However, with most participants I mainly checked my understanding of their responses by posing further questions. While some expressed their interest in keeping their email letters as a sort of diary, others expressed a desire to read about the part they played in the research in the finished product.

Methodology 54

The narrative accounts of adoptees were analysed and compared using qualitative coding and sampling techniques described by Glaser and Strauss (1967) and further developed by Strauss and Corbin (1990). Glaser and Strauss’s ideas on grounded theory have been criticised for their suggestion that the theoretical literature on an area of study should be ignored “to avoid presuppositions or prior conceptualisation”, an idea which Burgess says is “exceedingly difficult for researchers to achieve” (Burgess

1984:181); see also (Bulmer 1984). However, Strauss and Corbin describe the importance of “theoretical sensitivity” to the research project which can come from a number of sources – from the literature, from professional experience and through personal experience (Srauss 1990:42-43).

Issues about how representative the adoptee group is when compared to the broader intercountry adoptee ‘group’ in Australia can be addressed by using the criteria appropriate to a grounded theory study. While quantitative studies are concerned with whether a sample of the population can represent the entire population, grounded theory studies are concerned with the “representativeness of concepts in their varying forms” (Srauss 1990). Thus, using the constant comparative method discussed earlier, a set of categories can be generated from small amounts of data and expanded as larger amounts of information are included in the analysis. By repeatedly considering each piece of data and looking for evidence of events and incidents and asking questions about why certain concepts are present in some data and not in others, emerging hypotheses can be repeatedly tested (Ryan 2003; Silverman 2000; Srauss

1990). It is also necessary to consider what Silverman describes as “deviant-case analysis”, where ‘negative’ cases or those which do not ‘fit’ easily within the emerging theoretical framework can also be explained (Silverman 2000:180). For example, in the

‘older’ group, two of the participants’ experiences did not ‘fit’ with the emerging theory about the pervasiveness of assimilationist discourses in the public domain in the 1970s and into the 80s. Their experiences contributed to an understanding of how this period Methodology 55

had other conflicting and overlapping discourses present in some cultural contexts whilst not in others.

The use of multiple methods of social inquiry including the use of the constant comparative method allowed themes to emerge – themes about adoptees’ lived experiences of racial difference and racism, about how being an intercountry adoptee has changed over the decades, about how community attitudes and social, family and educational support impact on an individual’s life choices and level of resilience.

However, the research is also informed by readings on ‘cultural identity’ and ‘race’ in sociological theory. The following chapter will consider the poststructuralist, postcolonial, feminist and critical race theory which can assist in an alternative understanding of how adoptees define themselves and their everyday experiences as part of a minority group in a predominantly white society.

56

CHAPTER FOUR

Theorising ‘Cultural Identity’

I mentioned in the literature review in Chapter Two, how ‘cultural identity’ in relation to intercountry adoptees has tended to be written about in limited ways. An adoptees’

‘cultural identity’ is usually presented as bounded and static, an ‘essential’, singular entity, something you are born into which is in need of ‘preservation’ and continues unchanged throughout a person’s life. For example, in the Review of the Adoption of

Children Act (1965), the New South Wales Law Reform Commission discusses the importance of the ‘preservation’ of a child’s ‘cultural heritage’ by “implementing cultural continuity in adoption placements” (New South Wales Law Reform Commission

1997:319). I shall be arguing that the idea that a child’s ‘cultural heritage’ can be

‘preserved’ and can continue unchanged throughout their lives essentialises intercountry adoptee identity construction. I use the term ‘essentialism’ as defined by

Pnina Werbner - “to essentialise is to impute a fundamental, basic, absolutely necessary constitutive quality to a person, social category, ethnic group, religious community, or nation. It is to posit falsely a timeless continuity, a discreteness or boundedness in space, and an organic unity. It is to imply an internal sameness and external difference or otherness” (Werbner 1997a:228).

This essentialist discourse of cultural preservation is not present only in intercountry adoption literature. Other immigrant and transnational group literature also suggests different attachments to ‘homeland’ and ‘heritage’ and various modes of preserving original, essential cultures. Cultural identity, as it relates to adoptees therefore, requires critical analysis beyond notions of individual or familial pathology to an analysis of broader societal and global discourse on identity construction. This chapter will discuss some postcolonial and cultural studies approaches to understanding ‘cultural identity’ Theorising ‘Cultural Identity’ 57

which I found particularly useful in analysing the diverse and dynamic nature of adoptee identities revealed by my data, beginning with a brief historical look at the concept of culture and its changing meanings in certain Western societies.

‘Culture’ and Its Meanings

Raymond Williams (1960), Peter van der Veer points out, “reminds us [that] the use of the term ‘culture’ in English changed in the course of the Industrial Revolution from the

‘tending of natural growth’ to ‘a whole way of life, material, intellectual and spiritual’ by the first half of the nineteenth century” (Veer 1997:90). Van der Veer himself demonstrates that within the discipline of anthropology, the concept of culture “arose in tandem with imperialism…(and) had a particular direction: an attempt to locate and define modernity by contrasting it to its non-Western, non-modern Other” (Veer 1997).

Hans-Rudolf Wicker also traces the historical uses of ‘culture’, referring to the often- quoted passage from E.B. Tyler’s Primitive Culture (1958) “which describes culture – and civilisation – as, in the widest sense, a complex whole which includes knowledge, religious beliefs, art, morals, laws and customs”. Wicker suggests that although Tyler

“was influenced by the evolutionism of his century, which saw culture as a civilising achievement and an ennoblement of the spirit, Tyler prepared the ground for a post- evolutionary and postcolonial view of culture” (Wicker 1997:31). The notion of cultures as ‘complex wholes’ suggests unique bounded entities which are defined by their differences to each another – differences, for example, in belief systems and social and economic structures. This understanding of culture, as Wicker suggests, objectifies

‘culture’ as ‘patterns of thought’ and ‘ways of life’, and individuals “appear mostly as carriers of culture” and “they exist for the sole purpose of lending expression to their culture, which, through them, is able to fulfil its true destiny” (Wicker 1997:32).

Theorising ‘Cultural Identity’ 58

Nira Yuval-Davis’s analysis of women’s relationship to culture is important to mention here. Women are not only biological bearers of the children for the cultural collective, they are also expected to “reproduce it culturally’’ and “be the intergenerational transmitters of cultural traditions, customs, songs, cuisine, and, of course, the mother tongue” (Yuval-Davis 1997:196). Yuval-Davis uses the example of wives of immigrants who are usually “expected to remain the primary bearers of a distinctive ‘home’ culture.

Amongst the children of immigrants “stronger social control is likely to be exercised on girls than on boys”, girls being expected to exhibit culturally ‘appropriate behaviour’

(Yuval-Davis 1997:197). Within the context of intercountry adoption, adoptee children are frequently viewed in official (see discussion in Chapter Nine on ‘Cultural Heritage

Placement Principle’), as well as everyday discourse as being bearers of their ‘original’ culture. For example, Sri Lankan adoptee, Kristen spoke about her white adoptive father’s expectations and disapproval of her behaviour when she started smoking after the death of her adoptive mother – “Sri Lankan girls don’t behave like that”, he said.

This statement raises many questions about contemporary and ‘traditional’ meanings of culture. It suggests not only complex gender and racial inequalities but also points to the enduring tendency to imagine ‘cultures’ as being defined by clear boundaries and behaviours specific to those people born into a particular ‘culture’. It suggests a propensity to reduce culture to socially constructed racial characteristics. It also highlights questions about cultural authenticity and Kristen’s ‘crisis of identity’, a ‘crisis’ which may be seen by some adoption theorists as indicative of the ‘inter-country adoptee condition’ but may also be read as illustrative of our preoccupation with issues about cultural identity in late modernity.

Identity ‘in crisis’

Stuart Hall refers to the cultural critic, Kobena Mercer who observes that “identity only becomes an issue when it is in crisis, when something assumed to be fixed, coherent Theorising ‘Cultural Identity’ 59

and stable is displaced by the experience of doubt and uncertainty” (Mercer 1990:43) in

(Hall 1992:275). Similarly, Zygmunt Bauman says that “one thinks of identity whenever one is not sure of where one belongs…’Identity’ is a name given to the escape sought from that uncertainty” (Bauman 1996:19). As mentioned in Chapter Two, the ‘crisis of identity’ appears in much adoption literature as ‘identity confusion’. Natalie Cherot, writing in the context of Vietnamese-American adoptee experience, suggests that “the discourses of expert knowledge, including those created by adoption social workers, often categorize the adoptee stories through the lens of psychological deviance, as unsuccessful assimilation between Asian children and their white parents and community, or as a product of adult confusion” (Cherot 2006). Barry Richards, commenting on the highly politicised area of ‘race matching’ in adoption placements, and on an assumption in some transracial adoption literature that intercountry adoptees are experiencing their sense of ‘identity confusion’ on their own, says:

Perhaps one reason why the debate about transracial adoption has commanded so much interest in recent years is because it expresses, in the stereotype of the disinherited adoptee, a pervasive contemporary experience. We should not only beware of creating stereotypes in our imaginations, we should be even more aware of imposing, in practice, a spurious solution to everyone’s problem on those people who we imagine are suffering it alone” (Richards 1994:87).

Postmodern theorists have demonstrated how the breakdown in ‘traditional’ values in contemporary times has contributed to a general feeling of uncertainty and fear

(Bauman 1997; Hall 1992; Melucci 1997). Bauman describes the factors which he sees as contributing to this feeling of uncertainty as “the new world disorder”, that is, the move from a world of clear-cut divisions to “a world devoid of visible structure and any

– however sinister – logic”; universal deregulations of markets and “the unbounded freedom granted to capital and finance at the expense of all other freedoms (and) a tearing up of the socially woven and societally maintained safety nets” (Bauman

1997:51-52). Hall speaks about the impact of global marketing on identity construction and argues that “the more social life becomes mediated by the global marketing of Theorising ‘Cultural Identity’ 60

styles, places and images, by international travel, and by globally networked media images and communications systems, the more identities become detached - disembedded - from specific times, places, histories and traditions, and appear ‘free- floating” (Hall 1992:303)

Alberto Melucci’s paper on identity and difference in a globalised world mirrors Hall and

Bauman’s scenario on the uncertainty of the times. Melucci sees the multiple choices and experiences of the individual as causing a crisis of identity. Whereas in the past

“the meaning of individual behaviour was always sought on some plane of reality lying above or below the individual - nature, the kinship system, the state, class, or

Society...in contemporary systems the construction of the meaning of action shifts to the individual” (Melucci 1997:64). Melucci suggests that one way out of the confusion that comes with the “multiple experience of the self” is to “once again attach ourselves to a stable nucleus in a desperate attempt to reconstitute an essence - for example, by reviving primary bonds of belonging, like kinship or local and geographical ties”

(Melucci 1997:64-65).

Hall (1992) refers to Ernesto Laclau’s (1990) concept of ‘dislocation’ and suggests that contrary to earlier sociological notions, society is not “a unified and well-bounded whole, a totality, producing itself through evolutionary change from within itself, like the unfolding of a daffodil from its bulb. It is constantly being ‘de-centred’ or dislocated by forces outside itself” (Hall 1992:278). Hall refers to Laclau’s argument that late-modern societies “are characterised by ‘difference’; they are cut through by different social divisions and social antagonisms which produce a variety of different ‘subject positions’

– i.e. identities – for individuals”. However, Laclau also argues “that dislocation has positive features. It unhinges the stable identities of the past, but it also opens up the possibility of new articulations – the forging of new identities, the production of new subjects” (Laclau 1990) in (Hall 1992:279). Theorising ‘Cultural Identity’ 61

An understanding of cultural identity as identities ‘in crisis’ tends to promote a notion of helplessness attributed to ‘others’ who inhabit a fixed position as part of ‘minority culture’ defined in binary opposition to ‘white culture’. However, an alternative reading which sees ‘the possibility of new articulations’ and the emergence of new identities suggests other ways of understanding complex identities (rather than a singular

‘culture’ or ‘identity’) which are blurred, unbounded, heterogeneous and open-ended. It suggests opportunities for the development of strategies of resistance and different modes of belonging within and through structures of dominance albeit contingent on particular place and space contexts.

Homi Bhabha’s notion of the ‘third space’ has proved to be useful here as have Hall’s

(1990,1996) ideas about ‘becoming’ as well as ‘being’ which will be discussed in greater detail as the chapter progresses. Paul Gilroy’s (2004) notion of ‘conviviality’, the everyday ways people are able to negotiate difference, across perceived boundaries defined by race, culture and identity may also be relevant to adoptee identity construction (Gilroy 2004). However, as Gilroy suggests, there needs to be recognition of, and an honest engagement with, our racist past and the ‘new racisms’ in contemporary times. The denial of racism, he suggests, is often a “bigger problem than racism itself” (Gilroy 2006). Thus, it is important to understand how different ways of thinking about cultural identity have been influenced by Western societies’ relationships to issues of race and nation building.

‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and Nation

The meanings of ‘race’ and its relationship to ‘culture’ and the culture of nation-building is integral to my argument about ‘cultural identity’ as it relates to intercountry adoptees.

An understanding of how ‘race’ is imagined in contemporary socio-political discourse however, requires a consideration of how the concept has been used historically within particular socio-cultural contexts and how this has changed over time. Critical race Theorising ‘Cultural Identity’ 62

theorist, David Goldberg offers a good historical analysis of early European uses of the term. He suggests that ‘race’:

seeped into European consciousness more or less coterminous with the exploratory voyages of discovery, expansion and domination in the latter part of the fifteenth century. The French term race and the German Rasse derive from the Italian razza and the Spanish raza , general terms that came to reflect the discovery and experience of groups of beings very different from, indeed strange to the European eye and self. From its inception, then, race has referred to those perceived, indeed, constituted as other (Goldberg 1993:62).

Goldberg traces the use of the term in “plant and animal classification” and suggests that “it increasingly defined the modern interest in differentiating newly discovered groups of people”. Thus from “its earliest use ‘race’ has taken on both natural and social qualities” where “divisions, nations and peoples may find themselves of common stock in virtue of shared social characteristics, ones perhaps deemed natural properties of the group” (Goldberg 1993:62-63). In the second half of the nineteenth century evolutionary theorists introduced new notions of race based on biology and genetics.

Goldberg suggests that “the Darwinian conception of race as subspecies marks a watershed in race-thinking” where “natural selection and survival of the fittest are what will naturally maximise utility for the population at large” (Goldberg 1993:67).

However, in more recent times, biological ideas about race have been replaced by cultural constructions of race which “includes identifying race with language group religion, group habits, norms, or customs: a typical style of behaviour, dress, cuisine, music, literature, and art” (Goldberg 1993:70). As Hall suggests, cultural definitions of race “allow race to play a significant role in discourses about the nation and national identity” (Hall 1992:298). Hall refers to Paul Gilroy’s comments on the links between

‘cultural racism’ and ideas of nation and national belonging. Gilroy says:

We increasingly face a racism which avoids being recognized as such because it is able to line up ‘race’ with nationhood, patriotism and nationalism. A racism which has taken a necessary distance from crude ideas of biological inferiority and superiority now seeks to present an imaginary definition of the nation as a unified cultural community. It constructs and defends an image of national culture – homogeneous in its whiteness yet precarious Theorising ‘Cultural Identity’ 63

and perpetually vulnerable to attack from enemies within and without (Gilroy 1992:87) in (Hall 1992:298).

In the Australian context, race and culture theorists such as Hage (1998), Stratton

(1998), Stratton and Ang (1998), Thomas (1999), Vivani (1996), Rizvi (1996), Kivisto

(2002), Cox (1987), Vasta (1996) and Castles (1996) have illustrated how Australia’s history of nation building is intricately connected with discourses of race, and how

Said’s (1995) ideas about Self and Other can be applied to our changing and complex constructions of ‘others’ in Australia. In the context of intercountry adoptee identities, I am interested in the way the particular meanings surrounding ‘race’ which have informed Australian immigration policies, particularly the policies and practices of assimilation and multiculturalism, have impacted on intercountry adoptees’ lives and the different ways adoptees negotiate such discourses.

My analysis of my empirical material is based on the assumption that national identities are not something we are born with but rather “a system of cultural representation”, a set of meanings and symbols which form the idea of the national culture (Hall

1992:292). As Anderson (1983) explained they are ‘imagined communities’ and their differences can be explained “in the different ways in which they are imagined” (Hall

1992:293). Our imagining of the nation includes the creation of boundaries formed in relation to differences. It also includes the construction of a ‘narrative of the nation’ which encompasses origin myths, national histories, stories, images, national symbols and rituals (Hall 1992:293). Hall goes on to suggest the cultural invention of traditions and origins makes “the confusions and disasters of history intelligible, converting disarray into ‘community’” (Hall 1992:295), see also (Anthias 1992) and (Hobsbawn

1983).

Hall refers to Bhabha (1990) who also speaks of the myths associated with nation building and boundary creation when he suggests that “nations, like narratives, lose Theorising ‘Cultural Identity’ 64

their origins in the myths of time and only fully realize their horizons in the mind’s eye”

(Hall 1992:293). The discourses associated with the formation of a national identity are often “symbolically grounded on the idea of a pure, original people or ‘folk’” and there is, as Hall suggests, the temptation “to turn the clock back, retreat defensively to that

‘lost time’ when the nation was ‘great’ and to restore past identities”. Hall uses the example of the rhetoric of Thatcherism in the 1980s which included “looking back to past imperial glories and ‘Victorian values’ while simultaneously undertaking a kind of modernization in preparation for a new stage of global capital competition” (Hall

1992:295). Australia had similar debates in the 1980s with then Opposition leader,

John Howard and historian Geoffrey Blainey talking about the ‘degree of tolerance’ that the public has towards Asian immigrants and berating those historians they described as having a ‘black armband’ view of Australian history. As Stratton states, “this is a strategy for reinstating the triumphalist version of Australian history” which is a

“traditional view of modern Australian history which sees the period as one in which the

Australian nation has gone from success to ever greater success” which “in turn, legitimates Howard’s claim to the centrality of an Anglo-Celtic, mainstream culture”

(Stratton 1998:105).

Bhabha emphasises the changing boundaries of the imagined communities of the nation and speaks of ‘cultural hybrids’ who have lived in more than one culture and now live on the nation’s margins, and who “both evoke and erase the ‘totalizing boundaries’ of the nation” (Anthias 1992:38). The idea of cultural hybridity disrupts notions of bounded groups, communities and nations. But a contradiction exists in how hybridity is theorised and how it is experienced . Hybridity theory developed, as

Werbner suggests, “out of the paradigmatic shift in theory from the modernist to the postmodernist” and while “hybridity is celebrated as powerfully interruptive”, it is also

“theorized as commonplace and pervasive”. If it is theorised as ‘commonplace’ how Theorising ‘Cultural Identity’ 65

disruptive can it be to official discourses and established cultural truths? (Werbner

1997b:1).

‘Hybrid’ Identities

Nikos Papastergiadis traces the historical use of the term’ hybridity’ stating that the word “bears the dubious traces of colonial and white supremacist ideologies…and was deeply inscribed in the nineteenth-century discourses of scientific racism”, but goes on to argue that the current use of the term seems to be motivated “by a perverse pleasure of taking a negative term and transform(ing) it into a positive sign”.

Papastergiadis addressing the critics who believe “the concept is too deeply embedded within a discourse which presupposes an evolutionary hierarchy, and that it carries the prior purity of biologism” seems justified in asking the question – “should we use only words with a pure and inoffensive history, or should we challenge essentialist models of identity by taking on and then subverting their own vocabulary?” (Papastergiadis

1997:258). Papastergiadis refers to Bhabha’s concept of hybridity which “is initially used to expose the conflicts in colonial discourse, then extended to address both the heterogeneous array of signs in modern life and various ways of living with difference”

(Papastergiadis 1997:277).

Pnina Werbner traces modern hybridity theory referring to “Foucault’s analysis of heterotopic spaces (Foucault 1986)” and Barthes (1972), Bourdieu (1984) and

Bakhtin’s (1984) analysis of “popular mass culture and carnival as subversive and revitalising inversions of official discourses, high-cultural aesthetic forms or the exclusive lifestyles of dominant elites”. Werbner suggests, that “such popular mixings and inversions, like the subversive bricolages of youth cultures analysed by Hebdige

(1979), are ‘hybrid’ in the sense that they juxtapose and fuse objects, languages and signifying practices from different and normally separated domains and, by glorifying Theorising ‘Cultural Identity’ 66

natural carnality or ‘matter out of place’, challenge an official, puritanical public order”

(Werbner 1997b:2).

While notions of hybridity may be ‘commonplace and pervasive’ in postmodern theory such ideas are yet to infiltrate official adoption discourse. In the British context, Phil

Cohen suggests that while the poststructuralist idea that “subjectivities are not unitary or fixed, but multiple and shifting” has significantly influenced various areas in the human sciences,“…they have not so far penetrated very far into the theoretical discourse of social work” (Cohen 1994:45). My analysis of my empirical data has led me to believe that ‘hybridity’ is a useful analytical tool for countering the essentialist tendencies of much of the contemporary intercountry adoption discourse that places adoptees as passive victims who have been ‘saved’ or as having no active involvement in determining their life’s course. The concept of cultural hybridity is also useful as a way to map the complexities of intercountry adoptees’ identities and the ways in which they manage difference.

However, as suggested previously, notions which see ‘cultural identity’ as fixed and unchanging are not restricted to official adoption discourse. They are indicative of the narrow definition of ‘cultural identity’ present in the broader multicultural policy and reflected in the literature on the ‘Other’. For example, Carmen and Allen Luke’s analysis of interracial families in Australia suggests that “among much first-wave feminist and postcolonial writing, the ‘Other’…was conceptualised as a relatively fixed subject, one oppressed and allegedly duped into hegemonic narratives, naively consenting to her own marginality, dispossessed of self-determining power and voice”

(Luke 1999:232). Luke and Luke continue that “this kind of victim narrative has been reworked by feminist and postcolonial scholars who are replacing terminologies associated with ‘otherness’ with more slippery, open-ended, and non-bounded terms such as ‘subaltern’, ‘diaspora’, or ‘hybrid’” (Luke 1999:232). Such terms hold the Theorising ‘Cultural Identity’ 67

possibility of individual and collective agency and point to a politics of representation and the more contested domain of ‘identity politics’.

The Politics of Representation

Stuart Hall describes, in the much quoted Cultural Identity and Diaspora , two different ways of thinking about ‘cultural identity’. In the first, cultural identity is defined “in terms of one, shared culture, a sort of collective ‘one true self’, hiding inside the many other, more superficial or artificially imposed ‘selves’, which people with a shared history and ancestry hold in common”. He continues that “within the terms of this definition, our cultural identities reflect the common historical experiences and shared cultural codes which provide us, as ‘one people’, with stable, unchanging and continuous frames of reference and meaning, beneath the shifting divisions and vicissitudes of our actual history”. This idea of an ‘essence’, of shared history and ancestry which must be

‘discovered’ and ‘brought to light’, Hall believes, “played a critical role in all the postcolonial struggles” (Hall 1990:223) and should not be underestimated. As Hall suggests, “hidden histories have played a critical role in the emergence of many of the most important social movements of our time – feminist, anti-colonial and anti-racist”

(Hall 1990:224).

Drawing on the experiences of other postcolonial struggles, some adoptees in the emerging intercountry adoptee movements frame a resistance to colonial and racist discourses in terms of a shared history 9, the ‘loss of identity’ associated with the adoption experience and the importance of reclaiming one’s cultural essence. As mentioned in the previous chapter, “in the world of intercountry adoption, two stories predominate: a story of abandonment and a story about roots” (Yngvesson 2003:7). As

9 For example, Cherot (2006) suggests that “international adoptees create spaces in which they narrate their life stories, disidentify with exclusive membership in white communities, and forward hybrid identities. The self-identifying community’s face-to-face and internet pedagogical storytelling allow for the emergence of an alternative collective history, and an expression of agency separate from adoption agencies, workers and adoptive parents” (Cherot 2006:7). Theorising ‘Cultural Identity’ 68

Hall suggests in his analysis of the Black African diaspora, the “rift of separation” and

“the ‘loss of identity’…only begins to be healed when these forgotten connections are once more set in place. Such texts restore an imaginary fullness or plentitude, to set against the broken rubric of our past” (Hall 1990:225).

But it is Hall’s second position on cultural identity which seems to offer greater opportunities for emerging strategies of empowerment. This understanding of cultural identity “recognises that, as well as the many points of similarity, there are also critical points of deep and significant difference which constitute ‘what we really are’; or rather

– since history has intervened – ‘what we have become’” (Hall 1990:225). Whereas the first position “assumes that there is some intrinsic and essential content to any identity which is defined by either a common origin or a common structure of experience or both”, the second position “emphasizes the impossibility of such fully constituted separate and distinct identities” (Grossberg 1996:89). There is, as Ien Ang suggests,

“something distinctly idealistic, if not utopian, in the statement that identities are a matter of becoming rather than being”. But such a statement does allow for an alternative reading to the one which sees the only way forward is to recreate an imagined past. As Ang points out, “Hall rescues the possibility for ‘identity’ – that is, the way we represent and narrativize ourselves to ourselves and to others – to be a resource of hope, to be the site of agency and attachment that energizes us to participate in the making of our own ongoing histories, the construction of our continuously unfolding worlds, now and in the future” (Ang 2000:1).

In Chapter Two, I quoted a Korean-American adoptee’s reflections on the negative images attributed to adoptees - “bananas, bastards and victims” - and her appeal to others in the intercountry adoptee ‘movement’ to write about alternative, more empowering ways of being and belonging. The symbol of the banana – ‘yellow outside, white inside’ – has also been used by second and subsequent groups of Asian Theorising ‘Cultural Identity’ 69

migrants to describe the ambiguities and ambivalences of their hybrid position. Ien Ang points to the way the negative image of a ‘banana’, as someone who is ‘not Chinese enough’ or ‘too Westernised’ can have an alternative reading. That is, the ‘banana’ can be seen as representative of the “porousness of identities” and “the fact that all identities evolve and take shape through daily and multiple interrelationships with myriad, differently positioned others” (Ang 2003:152). Members of a Korean-

Scandinavian artist/activist group whose ‘Banana Power’ project featured in The Korea

Times aim to raise awareness in Korea about issues relating to intercountry adoption but also suggest that “in a broader sense, the project tackles the diaspora issue”. The

Korea Times article quotes the project’s video which says, “Bananas cannot grow in

Europe. It used to be a symbol of something exotic and far away, but it has become as ordinary as an apple or a pear, typical Scandinavian food” (Dong-shin 2006). Thus the symbol of the banana not only speaks of multiple readings by differently positioned individuals or subjects, it also highlights the way identities are continually being constructed through processes of exclusion and inclusion, through similarities and differences and through collective and individual agency.

James Clifford highlights the contemporary tendency to view all those involved in the domain of identity politics with scepticism. He says “the political right sees only a divisive assault on civilizational (read national) traditions, while a chorus on the Left laments the twilight of common dreams, the fragmentation of any cumulative politics of resistance. Meanwhile, intellectuals of a poststructuralist bent, when confronted with movements based on tribal, ethnic, gender, racial or sexual attachments are quick on the anti-essentialism trigger” (Clifford 2000:94). Clifford refers to Craig Calhoun’s Social

Theory and the Politics of Identity, which, he argues “challenges a widespread perception that the identity-based politics of racial/ethnic groups, the women’s movement, the gay movement, and other self-assertions by excluded peoples represent something new”. Clifford suggests that “identity has been seen as preceding Theorising ‘Cultural Identity’ 70

political participation, rather than as made and unmade, connected and disconnected in the interactive arenas of democratic, national, and transnational social life”. It is thus the ‘tension’ between “desires and aspirations that cannot be fulfilled” that “is the source of identity politics that aim not simply at the legitimation of falsely essential categorical identities but at living up to deeper social and moral values” (Calhoun 1994) in (Clifford 2000:95).

Other theorists are interested in the processes of representation, self-representation and collective organisation. Pnina Werbner, for example, says that “increasingly, the tendency has been to label all collective representation – whether of ethnic and religious groups, or classes and nations – as misplaced essentialisms (so that as anthropologists, we can no longer study a ‘society’, a ‘community, a ‘culture’ or a

‘people’)” (Werbner 1997a:228). Werbner believes Dominguez (1989) offers a way out of “this apparent aporia” by suggesting “that ethnographic writing should focus not on groups but on the process of objectification itself: the way collectivities describe, redescribe and argue over who they are” (Werbner 1997a:229). As Rachel Bloul suggests, an understanding of the politics of identification “must be combined with an analysis of actors’ strategies if one is to show what induces individuals of an emergent

‘ethnic group’ to accept or resist exclusionary identification with such group. Thus, resistance to identification becomes as important to theorise as identification per se , a point lost when the focus slides to defining ‘identity’ “(Bloul 1999:9).

However, an understanding of differences within groups does not tell the whole story.

In highlighting the usefulness of hybridity theory, Nestor Garcia Canclini points out that,

“diversity and heterogeneity are terms that serve to establish catalogues of differences, but they do not account for intersections and mixings between cultures. The term mestizaje tends to be limited to what happens to races, to the biological aspect of the crossings, while syncretism almost always refers to fusions of religions or of traditional Theorising ‘Cultural Identity’ 71

symbolic movements”. However, “ hybridisation can embrace these ‘classical’ mixings and also include interlacings of the traditional and the modern, of elite, popular and mass cultures” (Canclini 2000:41).

The concept of hybridisation can also encompass what Nira Yuval-Davis describes as

‘transversal politics’ which are “based on dialogue that takes into account the different positionings of women, or people in general, but does not grant any of them a priori privileged access to the ‘truth’. In ‘transversal politics’, perceived unity and homogeneity are replaced by dialogues that give recognition to the specific positionings of those who participate in them, as well as to the ‘unfinished knowledge’ [to use

Patricia Hill Collins’s term (1990)] that each such situated positioning can offer” (Yuval-

Davis 1997:203-4). Yuval-Davis suggests that this form of political activism, unlike

‘identity politics’ which assumes homogeneous membership, considers “gender, class, race, ethnicity, location, sexuality, stage in the life cycle, ability, and all other dimensions of specific positionings…as well as the particular value systems and political agendas of the participants in the exchange” (Yuval-Davis 1997:204). In this way, the heterogeneous and hybrid nature of the identities of intercountry adoptees, who may share the status of ‘intercountry adoptee’ and little else, may well be the most effective resistance to dominant essentialist discourse about the ‘adoptee condition’. As

Yuval-Davis suggests, while it is acknowledged that essentialist constructions sometimes “involve ‘arbitrary closures’ for the sake of political mobilisation, these categories become reified via social movements and state policy practices” (Yuval-

Davis 1997:203).

Describing intercountry adoptees’ identity construction in terms of their hybrid nature allows discussions about the particular ways adoptees and others form cross-cultural connections, not only in their everyday affiliations and interrelationships with numerous Theorising ‘Cultural Identity’ 72

others, but also in their contemporary transnational 10 connections with their place of birth and other nations. This allows the rather narrow understanding of ‘cultural identity’, defined as the ‘preservation of cultural heritage’ to be expanded to include numerous contemporary modes of belonging. My material uncovered ways of belonging that include intercountry adoptees’ membership in particular youth cultures 11 , family units, local community groups, as well as broader diasporic movements. A more expansive definition also suggests the fluidity and “constant transformation” of identities which sometimes reflects the experiences of second and subsequent generationers and encompasses moments of strategic essentialism (uniting with others around common feelings of marginalisation) (Spivak 1987), as well as moments of strategic hybridity (in numerous affiliations which are dependent on personal and socio-cultural circumstances) (Noble 1999; Butcher and Thomas 2003b; Wise 2003).

In the first two empirical chapters which follow (Chapters Five and Six), I consider the dominant ‘returning to roots’ discourse through the narratives of the ‘younger’ and

‘older’ groups of intercountry adoptees who have made return trips to their places of birth. These chapters commence the discussion of the particular socio-political circumstances which have impacted on adoptees’ individual decisions to return and suggest that while some adoptees describe their search as a ‘quest for identity’, other narratives portray the different meanings and motivations individual adoptees attach to their return journeys.

Chapter Seven considers how the ‘crisis of identity’ relates to intercountry adoptees by considering how particular discourses about adoption and identity - for example,

10 Levitt and Waters (2002) suggest the term ‘transnationalism’ was introduced by international relations scholars “in the early 1970s to describe the proliferation of non-state institutions and governance regimes acting across boundaries”. I am using the term in an anthropological sense to mean the “process by which transmigrants, through their daily activities, forge and sustain multi-stranded social, economic, and political relations that link together their societies of origin and settlement, and through which they create transnational social fields that cross national borders” (Basch 1994)in(Waters 2002:7) 11 Such sub-cultures may indeed be related to ‘ethnic’ affiliations or they may be connected to such things as music (Grossberg 2000, Mitchell 2003, Frith 1996) or fashion(Tong 2003). Theorising ‘Cultural Identity’ 73

‘search and reunion’ discourses - have impacted on adoption policy and practice and how they have changed in the decades since intercountry adoption commenced in the

1970s. Chapter Eight discusses how particular meanings about ‘race’ and ‘culture’ are intricately connected with Australia’s history of nation building. It considers the ongoing power of Said’s ideas about Self and Other, about the familiar (us) and the strange

(them) present in racial discourses, about popular and official notions about the

Australian ‘way of life’, and the way individual intercountry adoptees negotiate such discourses. Chapter Nine reflects on how Australian intercountry adoptees’ and their adoptive parents are often defined by a singular, bounded identity present in debates about ‘racial matching’ and ‘cultural continuity’. It considers intercountry adoptees hybrid identity constructions within the broader “bricolages of youth cultures” as well as their involvement or non-involvement, in other local and broader diasporic communities.

74

PART 2

HYBRID MODES OF CULTURAL BELONGING 75

CHAPTER FIVE

Travelling Back, Going ‘Home’ – The Myths and Social Realities of Returning (Part One)

…cultural identity is not a fixed essence at all, lying unchanged outside history and culture. It is not some universal and transcendental spirit inside us on which history has made no fundamental mark. It is not once-and-for-all. It is not a fixed origin to which we can make some final and absolute Return…of course, it is not a mere phantasm either. It is something – not a mere trick of the imagination. It has its histories – and histories have their real, material and symbolic effects…(but)…it is always constructed through memory, fantasy, narrative and myth. (Hall 1990:226)

Intercountry adoption stories about returning to the ‘homeland’ are viewed as compulsory reading for those of us in the intercountry adoption community. They reiterate our fears and fantasies about the other unknown family and nation forever connected to us but out of our reach until we finally make the journey ‘back’. For the journey back is not only seen as inevitable, but also viewed as necessary and desirable for the emotional development of the adopted person and essential to achieving a sense of ‘wholeness’.

The idea that the return journey is both inevitable and desirable to all adoptees presents itself in a range of academic disciplines as well as in popular and other public discourse on intercountry adoption. But what makes stories associated with the return journey so compelling, and do all adoptees have “an overwhelming desire to establish a connection with their origins” (Ahulwalia 2004:3)? Patton speaking from the United

States context says “all the adoptees I have spoken with…are familiar with the dominant public narratives concerning adoption and identity – that searching for our birth parents (more often mothers) is the only way we can know who we “really” are.

Some embrace this view, while others are more critical” (Patton 2000:15). Similarly, the individual personal narratives of adoptees in my study suggest significant differences between individual adoptees about questions relating to why, when or how to make a Travelling Back, Going ‘Home’ – (Part One) 76

connection with the birth country and how important this is or isn’t to their sense of knowing ‘who they really are’.

Patton’s analysis suggests that questions about cultural identity have centred on the importance of returning to your ‘roots’, whereas the socio-historical conditions and structures which have impacted on adoptees’ life choices have not been appropriately discussed or analysed to date. Her analysis of public discourse in the United States shows some parallels with the Australian situation. She says, “The mainstream public discussion is framed by the tension between biological and cultural explanations of race and identity, that is, by the nature-nurture debate. Little attention is accorded to the possibility that other social forces, such as public policy and social institutions, fundamentally shape the lives adoptees lead“ (Patton 2000:15). Indeed, in the

Australian context, it is important to point out, social policies and social institutions affect the decisions adoptees and adoptive families make in relation to returning to birth countries and issues related to searching for birth families.

There are a number of questions which need to be addressed. What are the contemporary social conditions which make adoptees’ stories not only ‘required reading’ for those in the broader adoption community but also amongst a wider audience? How do adoptee stories about travelling to their birth country differ and how are they similar? What can they tell us about how broader social and political institutions have impacted on their decision to return to their birth country or to search for birth relatives? How are adoptee return narratives similar to or different from those of children of other immigrants who may also feel compelled or not to return to their genealogical ‘roots’?

This chapter and the one following will attempt to explore these questions through the personal narratives of the twenty participants in this study, through adoptive parents' Travelling Back, Going ‘Home’ – (Part One) 77

accounts and through the empirical research of others. The stories of their return journeys will not only allow us to consider the particular social, cultural and political influences on their decisions but also help us to understand why there may be significant differences in individual adoptee experiences. The chapter will also begin to explore the range of issues adoptees face, which will be considered in greater depth in the following chapters, and introduce the ways their personal narratives may illuminate the broader societal discourse on the construction of difference.

Differences in Adoptee Experiences – ‘Younger’ and ‘Older’ Adoptee groups

I mentioned in the methodology chapter that the intercountry adoptees in this study fall loosely into two ‘groups’. In the ‘older’ group, seven of the adoptees were born in

Vietnam, two in Malaysia and two in Sri Lanka. In the ‘younger’ group, eight of the adoptees were born in South Korea and one in Sri Lanka.

It became increasingly clear throughout the project that the two groups would provide different insights into the adoptee experience not merely because of their age or gender differences but also because their adolescent and younger years were spent in different decades. This is particularly evident when we consider the circumstances surrounding adoptees’ and their families’ decisions to travel to the birth country and when we compare the differences both within and between the ‘younger’ and ‘older’ adoptee groups. This chapter will commence the analysis of return narratives by considering the different circumstances surrounding the ‘younger’ Korean adoptees’ first trips back to their country of birth. It will be followed by the analysis of return narratives of the ‘older’ adoptee group in the following chapter. I would like to mention at this point that the adoptee narratives quoted throughout the empirical chapters have not been edited. They are shown in the language and style written or spoken by individual adoptees. Travelling Back, Going ‘Home’ – (Part One) 78

Returning to the Birth Country

I’m glad to hear that you'll be taking your kids back at a young age…wish that my parents had been able to do so for me. At least Korea will figure for them at some level, even if it’s just fun memories, rather than the quest for identity, which I’ve been on! I guess the country's significance for them will come clear later on. It’s always different for each one of us. It’s been amazing meeting so many different people with divergent views on Korea, adoption and their adoptive families and countries. I think for many people the issues may stem from a lack of openness and understanding of Korea and adoption in their upbringing (Linnea – Korean-Australian adoptee – Age 20).

The dominant public discourse on returning usually involves an adoptee travelling to

‘the homeland’ for the first time as an adult in search of birth family members and on “a quest for identity”. We read in the popular press and see in television ‘current affairs’ style programmes highly emotive pleas for contact and reunion between adoptees and their birth families, usually the birth mother. But what of the other stories of return that do not reach the press – stories about adoptive families who travel with their children to the birth country while their children are young? What can these stories tell us about the motivations of adoptees and adoptive parents and how the cultural, social and political climate has changed to allow such journeys to take place?

Five out of the nine members of the ‘younger’ group had either already travelled to their birth country prior to speaking with me or travelled during the course of our conversations. Their motivations for wishing or not wishing to travel are many and varied – they range from ‘because my parents dragged me’ to ‘my first priority (was) to learn about and experience Korea first hand’. Two of the adoptees, a male, Jon, age 14 and a female, Linnea, age 20 had applied for (and received) scholarships to learn about Korean language and culture. Their experiences starkly contrast with the majority of adoptees in the ‘older’ group who did not have the opportunity and/or the desire to visit their birth country until they were in their late twenties or early thirties.

The reasons the two research groups differ will become clearer as the chapter and indeed as the thesis progresses. While it has been suggested that the older adoptees Travelling Back, Going ‘Home’ – (Part One) 79

have now reached the age and level of maturity where they are interested in searching for ‘who they really are’ because they are living independently from their white parents and are thus in a better position to explore issues of identity, this does not explain why some of the younger adoptees are also choosing to explore issues of cultural identity and race as well as knowledge about their birth families and birth culture at a different stage in their life to the older adoptees. The younger and older adoptees show a range of attitudes to learning about their birth culture, to travelling, as well as different feelings and expectations about searching for birth family connections. However, there are also similarities between members within each group which require a broader analysis of the socio-political and historical conditions which have affected them. I will commence the analysis of return narratives by a consideration of some of the motivations and experiences of the younger group who travelled to South Korea.

Travelling to Korea

Jon was adopted into an Australian family of ten people – he has seven siblings including two older non-adopted sisters, four adopted siblings from India, and an adopted brother from Taiwan. He had first visited Korea with his mother when he was age 11. He describes how his interest in Korean culture has grown throughout his life:

When I was young, before I was a teenager, I went to Korean camps up in Sydney and places with Korean adoptive families in the Kimchi Club. I have always been interested in Korean culture. When I was little I liked to be involved in picnics and things like that. As I got older I wanted to have more involvement. That really changed after my first trip to Korea when I was 11. My interest has grown stronger over the years and my parents have encouraged me to learn Korean a lot. I'm really glad that they did encourage me and I am glad that I agreed to it (Jon – Korean-Australian – Age 14).

Jon’s enthusiasm for learning more about his birth country increased after visiting

Korea for the first time with his mother. He speaks here about receiving news of his receipt of the scholarship:

In late April my Korean language teacher told me the great news that I had been selected as one of two adoptees to visit my birth country. This opportunity had been offered through the generosity of the Hankyoreh newspaper and SK Telecom, who were Travelling Back, Going ‘Home’ – (Part One) 80

sponsors of the trip. They had arranged a busy and interesting schedule for the five days we would spend in Korea so that we would make the most of our time.

When I found out I was going I was very excited because I love Korea and everything about it. When I flew into Incheon airport with Kim on April 30 th , I felt really happy. Although I had visited Korea in 2000, everything seemed new and exciting to me. As we walked through customs we were greeted by 3 people from Hankyoreh newspaper who were holding up a big banner welcoming Kim and me. They were very friendly and welcomed us to Korea.

Jon provided wonderful insights into his experiences of learning about Korean culture on his second visit. He spoke about visiting a Korean middle school and a University, going to a bathhouse, to the markets, staying with a home-stay family, visiting the babies' home where he spent the first few days of his life, learning a little about Korea’s military history:

On the first day Kim and I visited the Demilitarised Zone (the DMZ). I learned a lot about the history of North and South Korea and about the Korean War. A South Korean soldier took us on a tour and told us about the tunnels North Koreans had dug to try to infiltrate South Korea. My adopted country, Australia, fought alongside South Korea in the war.

We visited Dongbang, the adoption agency that found my adoptive family for me. In the baby hospital at Dongbang I saw premature babies that were getting special care until they were big enough to leave the hospital, and the healthy newborn babies who looked very cute. At midday we were invited to have lunch with all of the staff and the foster mothers who care for the babies that are going to be adopted. After lunch I met my own foster mother who had cared for me for the first 5 months of my life. Back in 1988 I was the third baby she had fostered, but she has now looked after 43 babies before they moved to their adoptive families. She kept telling me how nice my hands were. I liked her a lot and I know she loved me very much.

Before we arrived in Korea our sponsors had organised places to visit, but they also asked us if there were any places we wanted to go or things we wanted to experience during our trip. One special activity I had asked for was to spend a day in a Korean middle school, so that I could compare school life in Korea with my school life in Australia. Although it was a lot of fun, it was not as I had expected. The schoolboys were very loud and noisy and I found this strange because I had been told that Korean students were very quiet and well behaved. They were shy at first but soon started to talk to me. We ate lunch with the students. At lunchtime we had a hand-wrestle, but I lost because my opponent was much older and stronger. I liked visiting the school and I think it was one of my favourite activities while I was in Korea. All the teachers and students were friendly.

After visiting the middle school we went to a university. We spent time there with a group of students who play Korean musical instruments and dance. They performed for us, and then they showed us how to play the drum. It was much more difficult than it looked. Then we went outside with another group of performers and they did a masked dance for us, and then taught us the movements. They also performed some kung fu. We had a photo taken wearing their masks.

We visited Dongdaemun market to do some sightseeing and shopping. I found it very different to our markets or shopping in department stores. It was loud and extremely Travelling Back, Going ‘Home’ – (Part One) 81

busy. I enjoyed the variety of things on sale and I was amazed how many people were shopping at the same time.

On the last day we drove out of Seoul to visit an orphanage Dongbang operates, called Jacob's House. It is a special orphanage that cares for children with disabilities and special needs. The ages of the children ranged from babies to teenagers. I enjoyed going there because the children were sweet and wanted to play with us. They invited us to share lunch with the workers, and we had a tour of the building. I admire the work that Dongbang and the volunteers are doing with their care of these children.

Jon’s second trip allowed him to consider a number of different aspects of Korean lifestyle. He was able to explore his preconceptions about Korean school life, consider what his life may have been like had he stayed in Korea and place his own birth circumstances in the broader Korean societal picture. Jon’s enthusiasm for all things

Korean was encouraged and supported throughout his youth by his adoptive parents.

Similarly, the trips to Korea by the other adolescents were usually initiated by their adoptive parents who had reiterated the importance of knowledge of their birth country to their ongoing identity construction. The adoptees who travelled to Korea in their youth all seemed to share a similar enthusiasm for the place and spoke about the areas of Korean culture which they most enjoyed as well as aspects of the culture they thought were most different to their Western lifestyle in Australia.

Min Kyung, age 16, lives with her Korean adopted sister, age 13 and her parents in

Sydney’s Western suburbs. She says:

At first I didn't really want to go back to Korea, I would have happily stayed at home and spent the holidays with my friends, but my parents dragged me...ahhahah…but I’m glad they did. I liked Korea, it was a very beautiful country. While I was there I was able to identify with others exactly like me, and it was just a good experience for me, and even though I didn't know the language I really enjoyed the food, and the music. I love Korean pop now... I listen to it more than English, the fashion and music/dance is a really big thing over there. The only thing that I disliked was too much sight- seeing. It got a little boring but Lotte world (similar to Disneyland) and all the shopping was worth it. When I was over there we travelled from Seoul to Kyong Ju, to Andong, Daegu (thats where I was born) and then to Pusan, so we travelled around. In Seoul we stayed the place where you adopt from...I forget the exact name…but we met other Korean adopted children there and people who were about to adopt, there were Australians as well as Americans. (Min Kyung – Korean-Australian adoptee – Age 16).

Travelling Back, Going ‘Home’ – (Part One) 82

Seong Hwa, age 19, lives on the south coast of New South Wales with her adoptive parents and two younger non-adopted siblings, a sister, age 17 and brother, age 13.

Seong Hwa first visited South Korea with her family when she was age 10 and she tells of her memories of that time:

The memories that stand out in my mind are how popular Blonde hair 12 is over there, the fact that people would speak to me in Korean and I wouldn’t understand them. I remember the colourful traditional costumes, Hanbok, and the markets how they smelt like fish and the Koreans eating live octopus. One day we were in the markets we got to watch them cut the wriggling octopus up and dip it in sauce and serve it to their customers. I remember walking past a hotel, which had a similar name to my Korean name – Seong hwa. I also remember visiting the doctor that delivered me and meeting my foster parents. I remember pretty much everything as we documented our travels in a diary. I liked my entire trip to Korea especially the visit to Lotte world and the other theme parks. I thought it was strange how they sleep on the floor, how some hotels have heated floors. The bread tasted weird, really sweet.

I don’t think I was old enough to understand what was going on to me it was like a holiday. I didn’t understand why mum and my foster mother cried so much. If I went back to Korea now I think it would be different to when we first went in 1996 it would be more emotional because I understand a lot more now. I think it was good to travel there during my adolescent years but it would be more meaningful to travel back there now.

It is interesting to consider the meanings which these young adoptees attach to their early experiences of Korea. Jon, Min Kyung and Seong Hwa have all to some extent focussed on the holiday feeling of the trips – they talk about the food, the trips to theme parks, the markets and the ‘strangeness’ of some of the local customs. Both Min Kyung and Seong Hwa mentioned that although they could not understand or speak the language, the local people assumed that they could because they ‘looked’ Korean.

They travelled to their birth country as tourists, as ‘foreigners’, assessing their birth culture through a Westerner’s gaze. Jon commented about how he felt at the Korean bathhouse, “I was a little bit embarrassed at the bathhouse because I thought people would watch me because I was a foreigner. They didn't seem to notice, though” .

The young Korean adoptees are obviously aware that they are connected to Korea as no ‘foreigner’ could ever be, but there are feelings of ambivalence about the way other

Koreans see them and the way they think they should behave in a country which is in

12 In a separate face-to-face conversation, Seong Hwa had mentioned about how her brother and sister received much attention from the local people in Korea because of their blond hair. Travelling Back, Going ‘Home’ – (Part One) 83

some ways familiar and in other ways quite ‘strange’. However, there is also a level of innocence in their comments about their early trips which do not seem to be marked by the same emotionally charged intensity as the stories from older adoptees who first returned as adults. The trips to Korea in their early years allowed the younger adoptees to experience and compare different ways of life and to imagine how ‘Korea’ may continue to influence what they will become. Jon’s experiences with his homestay family, for example, allowed him to see how ongoing close connections with his birth country are not only possible, but also desirable. He says:

One of the most memorable parts of my trip, though, was staying with my homestay family. They were very nice to me, they fed me anything I wanted and they taught me a lot about Korean families. I visited a bath house with my host father and his son. I found it very relaxing and I managed to get into the hottest bath. Staying with my homestay family was a really great aspect of my trip to Korea and I hope we can remain in contact.

This was an unforgettable trip. I now have a much better understanding of Korean culture, language and the Korean community. I am going to study Korean language and society when I get to university. I can't wait until I go back to Korea again (Jon – Korean- Australian adoptee – Age 14).

However, Jon, Min Kyung and Seong Hwa’s predominantly enthusiastic responses are not the responses of all adoptees who return to visit their birth country. Eleana Kim talks about the Korean government sponsored organisation, Overseas Koreans

Foundation (OKF), a division of South Korea’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Trade, which was established in 1997 to provide programmes for overseas Koreans “so that they might, as offered by the president of OKF, ‘begin to feel the breath of Korea’s rich culture’“ (Kim 2003:57).

Kim describes a government sponsored ‘motherland’ tour she participated in which included adoptees ranging in age from sixteen to thirty-four from North America,

Europe and Australia. The tour included the performance by some adoptees in a mock

Korean wedding and courses on Korean ‘traditional’ food and customs which provided a “folklorized vision of Korean culture”. Kim sees such tours as a way the South Korean state attempts “to grant ‘Koreanness’ to overseas Korean adoptees” and suggests that Travelling Back, Going ‘Home’ – (Part One) 84

this often “comes into conflict with the desires and experiences of adopted Koreans themselves” (Kim 2003:57).

Kim’s article raises questions about ‘authentic’ identities, about the myriad forces which attempt to shape the identities of intercountry adoptees. She also outlines the change in policy of the Korean government which has attempted in recent years through policy reforms and public recognition of adoptees to demonstrate a much more open attitude.

However, the adoptees on Kim’s ‘homeland’ tour were “largely discouraged from experiencing contemporary urban South Korean life” and were restrained by pressures of ‘cultural training’ by tour organisers (Kim 2003:58). This contrasts with some of the young Korean adoptees in my study who had the opportunity to travel around the country with their parents, be accommodated in home stays and experience the realities of Korean life at their own pace. While Kim’s article eloquently articulates the

Korean state’s role in attempting to shape adoptees’ identities, questions also need to be raised about how governments and other organisations in their adopted countries impact on their identity construction. These issues will be further addressed in the following chapters.

It is worthwhile to point out at this stage however, that not all young Korean-Australians have the opportunity to revisit the country of their birth in their childhood or adolescence whether or not they are adopted into Australian families. Mary is a non- adopted Korean-Australian in her thirties who immigrated to Australia from South Korea with her family in her twenties. She has played the role of mentor to many young

Korean-Australians with whom she has come in contact through her involvement in church activities. Mary spoke with me about the Korean 1.5 generation in Sydney

(those who were born in Korea but grew up in Australia). She says:

As I was thinking about the questions you asked, it came to my mind that I personally haven't met many "second" generationers who were not babies. The people I met were Travelling Back, Going ‘Home’ – (Part One) 85

what people call "1.5 generationers" I think - those who were born in Korea but grew up in Australia. Some of them came when they were only a few months old but others came later. I guess those who came when they were a few months old would practically be almost the same as those who were born in Australia in terms of what they go through.

Not many of them have the luxury of travelling back to Korea until they get into Uni. They are so eager to travel to Korea because they hear all sorts of things about Korea and a lot of them sounds so exciting. When they travel to Korea, things ARE exciting and they become so fascinated with so many things. I mean, things are so technologically advanced over there and things change so rapidly, when I go back after a few years, I feel like I've become a granny who can't even find a switch to turn on the light. However, the excitement usually goes away over time and they feel that they don't feel at home either in Korea. Many come back feeling lost again. I would not be surprised if what these 1.5 generationers go through are shared with those who were adopted.

Indeed, Mary’s observations of the 1.5 generationers offer some surprising insights into the different reasons why young Korean-Australians may wish to revisit their birth country and the societal pressures which impact on their decisions. While the 1.5 generationers may be encouraged to travel to experience the ‘excitement’ of South

Korea’s recent technological advancements, other factors in Australian society have influenced their decision. Mary spoke about the relationships with their parents:

Many of these 1.5 generationers have difficulty communicating to their parents due to many factors. First of all, a lot of these 1.5 generationers have difficulty speaking Korean and their parents find it difficult to speak English. Their parents thought they were doing the best for their children not teaching Korean and focusing on being assimilated into the Australian society in every possible way.

Mary’s observations of some Korean-Australians show similarities with the situation of many of the older adoptees from Vietnam and Malaysia. Adoptive parents of the first adoptees to arrive in Australia were instructed to make the new members of their families into ‘new Australians’. As Yngvesson (2003) states in her analysis of the experiences of Chilian born, Swedish adoptees, it was believed that a child’s interests were best served by making a ‘clean break’ from the loss associated with the other family and the other nation by giving them a new name, a new family, a new nation – a new identity.

But the young adoptees who have travelled back to Korea with their parents have been influenced by different discourses about what is perceived to be in the child’s best Travelling Back, Going ‘Home’ – (Part One) 86

interests. Contemporary adoption discourses include the idea that the child is ‘rooted’ and has a ‘primal connection’ to his/her ‘natural’ family and birth place, a story which informed the Hague Convention of the early 1990s and promoted the idea of a child’s

“right to preservation of their ethnic, religious and cultural background” (Yngvesson

2003:7).

It is interesting to observe, however, that while the parents of the 1.5 generationers that

Mary speaks of have been influenced by the policy of assimilation, some adoptive parents who were raising their transracially adopted children just a few short years later have embraced the idea that every child has a right to knowledge of, and access to, their birth family and birth culture. Indeed Mary expresses surprise at the commitment of some adoptive parents to ensuring that their children have access to the language and culture of their country of birth. ‘Speaking’ to adoptive parents on Australia-adopt- korea listserv she says:

I am just so amazed by your dedication for your children in trying to know more about Korea. I just cannot help admiring your dedication and efforts. I don't even know of many Korean migrant parents who would try that much to maintain the cultural connection and heritage. Many children who were born here or came very early in their childhood have difficulty with speaking Korean. Many choose to learn the Korean language later in their life, like in Uni. There are many different reasons for it but the one of the reasons is probably that we take the connection with Korea for granted. It's very interesting to see many young people wanting to restore the severed ties with Korea once they begin Uni.

Mary’s observation’s about the relationships between the 1.5 generation youth and their parents are worthy of further consideration and will be considered in greater depth together with some research on other immigrant and interracial families later on in the thesis. In the context of the discussion on return narratives, however, it is important to note the different attitudes of adoptive parents to issues of visiting their children’s birth countries and to ask questions about the sorts of issues that have influenced their decisions.

Travelling Back, Going ‘Home’ – (Part One) 87

The Korean-born adoptees and their parents have generally had greater access to information about their birth country and also about issues relating to searching for birth relatives than the adoptees from Vietnam, Malaysia and Sri Lanka. However, within the group of eight Korean adoptees there are a range of attitudes and feelings about searching and significant differences about the timing and extent of such searches. The following section will consider some of the Korean adoptees experiences in this area.

Searching – the Korean Adolescent Experience

I think for a lot of my friends who have returned to find their birth family, their issues have been centred on wanting to find 'something'. I don't know if any of them have really been sure what that is. For some, it has been a good experience - maybe like the closing of a chapter in a book, bringing some sort of understanding to light. For others it has created more issues, I think (Linnea – Korean-Australia adoptee – Age 20).

The Korean adoptees in this study have all had some access to birth family information throughout their lives. They have spent their youth and adolescence in ‘multicultural’

Australia at a time when the practice of ‘open’ adoption, that is, a child’s right to have knowledge about and access to information about their birth family and birth culture, is considered to be in their best interests.

At the time of a child’s allocation to an Australian family, Eastern Social Welfare

Society (ESWS) 13 , the adoption agency in South Korea, usually provides the prospective adoptive parents with some identifying information; the name of their birth mother, sometimes birth father, the region where they grew up and perhaps some description of the birth parent/s physical appearance and level of education and employment. This has allowed some Korean adoptees to trace birth relatives relatively quickly, a somewhat different scenario to the Vietnamese, Malaysian and Sri Lankan adoptees who usually have no/very little birth family information. However, the Korean

13 Eastern Social Welfare Society is a Christian welfare organisation and the only agency in South Korea with which all state welfare departments in Australia have an intercountry adoption agreement. All the Korean children who have been adopted into Australian families have come through this agency. In the US by contrast, numerous private adoption agencies have arrangements with a number of other welfare organisations in South Korea. Travelling Back, Going ‘Home’ – (Part One) 88

adoptees’ access to some identifying information has not always meant that the information given is accurate or that individual adoptees all wish to make contact with birth relatives.

Min Kyung has a Korean adopted sister, age 13, who searched for her birth relatives when the family visited Korea. Unlike her sister, Min Kyung does not wish to search for her Korean relatives at this time and she describes here why her feelings about a reunion with her own birth mother are different to her sister’s feelings:

My sister met her parents through the adoption agency. It was really sad but happy at the same time, we met them in Seoul and then travelled to Andong where they lived and spent two days I think talking to her parents and she also found out she had two sisters and a younger brother who we also met…Even though my sister found her birth parents, I don't think that I want to, well at least not for the time being. Both my parents are very encouraging for me to find them, and the agency kept asking me if I wanted to, because I think that my birth mother is looking for me, however I don't think I want to. Sometimes I feel a bit selfish because I have no interest in finding my biological parents. I just think that my parents now are very important to me and to me they are basically my only parents. However my sister's mother e-mails and calls regularly to check up on her and sends presents, her biological family is very lovely, and I am very happy that my sister has found her parents because it means a lot more to her than it ever did or still does to me’. (Min Kyung – Korean adoptee – Age 17).

Min Kyung’s feelings about a reunion with her birth parents are similar to other Korean adoptees such as Amy. Amy, age 17, lives on the South Coast of New South Wales and has an older non-adopted brother and domestically adopted younger sister who came to the family at age three. Like Min Kyung, Amy spoke about her adopted sister’s need to find birth relatives and how they contrasted with her own feelings about searching:

I have had a strong bond with my family, especially with my parents.

From since I can remember I have always been close to my sister, maybe it is because we both are so alike and only ten months apart in age. She has had a bit of hard time with dealing with being adopted. As I was adopted at such a young age I only counted my family as the only family I had but (my sister) was later adopted at the age of three, which gave her three years to learn from her birth mother. Although she loves our parents as much as myself she just has a curiosity of finding her birth mother, also some of her birth relatives live in Australia which makes it easier for her to find them.’

I don’t know if I am just heartless or just don’t want to know about my birth parents. I guess I have never had a real reason to want to find them. Despite me not wanting to find Travelling Back, Going ‘Home’ – (Part One) 89

my birth parents my Dad wants to take me to Korea, he thinks it’s good to know about your birthplace and what it looks like. I don’t really mind at the moment, I’d prefer to go to Hawaii. Hee hee… (Amy – Korean-Australian adoptee – Age 17).

In contrast to Min Kyung’s and Amy’s feelings about searching, both of the male

Korean adoptees who participated in the study, Jon, age 14 and David, age 16 have chosen to search in their early adolescent years. Although, ESWS managed to make contact with both Jon’s and David’s birth mothers, only David was successful in meeting some members of his birth family. Both adoptees, however, had received incorrect information about the circumstances surrounding their birth. Jon attempted to find his birth mother when he first visited Korea with his mother at age 11. He says:

I tried to meet with my birth mother when I was in Korea in April 2000. The social workers found her and she didn't want to meet me. The social workers didn't know why. I felt disappointed because of her reaction but I am glad I tried to meet her…My birth mother had given false information to ESWS and I do not know why she had relinquished me, I do not feel bad about this though because I can understand the position she was in (Jon – Korean-Australian adoptee – Age 14).

Jon’s adoptive mother provides further insight into Jon’s search:

Jon asked to search for his birth mother in 2000 when he was 11 and he and I went to Korea on a 3 week tour…we had written to Korea over the years seeking info for Jon and stating our willingness to have contact. I spent time discussing possibilities with Jon (maybe we couldn't locate his birth mother, maybe she won't be willing to meet him, she might be thrilled to meet him and want a very close relationship - which might not be what he was looking for, etc.) He said he wanted to find her because he was concerned that she would be sad and worried about him.

In Korea the social worker wanted to speak to Jon, as (the agency) assists adoptees over 13 to search, but he was younger. The social worker read the letter he'd written to his mother, telling her he was happy with his life and he hoped she was happy with hers. I think they may have been more reluctant to help if he had a lot riding on the outcome. After speaking with Jon the social worker agreed to assist, but also explained that maybe half the birth mothers they locate refuse to meet their sons/daughters. She told Jon about the pressure society puts on these women and how family and husbands often do not know about the baby, that many women cannot risk their present marriage by revealing their secret. Even if they meet the adoptee in secret they worry that their husbands would suspect something.

Anyway, they traced her within hours even though she'd given false information when he was adopted. (The agency) sent an older woman to visit her home, with a cover story as they didn't know who might be home at the time. Jon’s birth mother answered the door but was furious towards this woman and didn't want to hear about Jon, read his letter or provide any info. It appears she had married and had other children, and was probably terrified about having her past revealed.

Travelling Back, Going ‘Home’ – (Part One) 90

Jon’s mother also spoke to other adoptive parents on Australia-adopt-Korea listserv

(with Jon’s permission) about how she felt about Jon making contact with his birth mother and how Jon responded to his birth mother’s refusal to see him. In response to a question from a list member about whether the social workers had suggested to Jon that he should request contact again in the future, she says:

They didn't really give any guidance either way though the social worker told him that sometimes situations change and she may seek information in the future.

We thought long and hard before supporting his request, particularly given his age. I'd have preferred to leave it a few years but we were in Korea and knew we wouldn't be returning for a while. We had opened the adoption of his brother from Taiwan when his brother was 2 years old and Jon had grown up knowing about the letters (his brother’s) birth mum sent saying how great it was to know he was loved and happy. Jon worried that his own birth mother would be concerned about him, so his motivation to search was to put her mind at ease. He would have liked a relationship, or at least an exchange of info, but mainly he wanted to let her know he was happy and didn't resent her.

We had explained to him ahead of time that there could be many reasons why a search is unsuccessful. That we might not find her, or she might be scared of contact because her husband may not know. We talked about how he might feel if this happened, and we asked him to imagine that scenario rather than the happy-ever-after scene. Even though his birth mother had given some false info they still managed to find her within hours. She was very angry at being located and didn't want any news of him.

He was disappointed but wasn't crushed. I felt confident that he would handle things okay but he surprised me with how he rationalised it all. He could easily have felt it as a second rejection, but he didn't and still doesn't. He is now 15. He feels he did what he wanted to do – to let her know he was okay and he'd like to know more about her. He still feels he achieved this despite her reaction, but for now he is happy leaving the ball in her court regarding future contact.

The one thing he did feel peeved about is that he doesn't have a photo. He would have loved a photo of either or both of his birth parents.

Jon’s reasons for wishing to contact his birth mother seemed primarily to be related to how she might be feeling. He was concerned that she might be “sad and worried about him”. Jon says, “I felt disappointed by her reaction” but “I understood the position she was in”. Despite his ‘disappointment’ he seemed able to understand the gender inequalities and pressures on Korean women in general and this understanding allowed him to place the behaviour of his birth mother in the wider socio-cultural

Korean context. Jon’s ongoing learning and experiences of Korean culture seems to have assisted him in coping with the knowledge of his relinquishment. As his narratives Travelling Back, Going ‘Home’ – (Part One) 91

illustrate however, his trips to Korea were not all about ‘searching’; rather searching was just one aspect of his travel experiences.

David, age 15, lives in a town in New South Wales with his adoptive parents and four older non-adopted siblings, three sisters and one brother. The youngest of the siblings is 19 while the others are in their twenties. David’s motivations and experiences related to searching differ from Jon’s in a number of areas. While Jon’s motivation for seeking his birthmother was related to ‘wanting to know that she is OK’ and he was able to understand her position, David has struggled with understanding why he was relinquished. David corresponded briefly with me via email letters but he found this form of communication difficult. However, David’s mother, Doreen, (with David’s permission) wrote long letters explaining his situation and the issues he has had to cope with during his life. Doreen sees one of main issues he has to cope with on a daily basis is his learning difficulties. She says:

The main issues as I see them are firstly that he has specific learning difficulties in reading, writing, maths and spelling. He repeated year one but it made no difference in the long run except that now in year nine, I think he is more mature than the other kids in his class and this is adding to his feelings of isolation.

He was diagnosed as having dyslexia and ADHD although he is not hyperactive, nor does he have any behaviour problems. He decided he did not want to take medication and we supported him in this. His writing is almost illegible and so he received a government grant to buy a laptop computer and programs to help him which he has used since year 7. This has made a big difference.

David and his family made two trips to Korea during the years we were corresponding.

He spoke briefly with me about his first trip to Korea:

Yeah travelling to Korea, it wasn't strange but it was interesting…yeah but I did enjoy it…yeah I went to Korea last year with my Mum and Dad, and we went all over the place and also I met my foster mother and we had a Korean meal at her house. While we were over there I also met some Korean people from Australia and some people that are going to adopt a child, and down stairs from where we stayed there was a place where there were the babies and so I helped out (David – Korean-Australian adoptee – Age 15).

Doreen provided more information about their first return trip to Korea: Travelling Back, Going ‘Home’ – (Part One) 92

We all had a wonderful time in Korea. David loved every minute of it especially at Eastern where we met a number of other adoptees and their families. David had asked to find his birth family but as I was the one to write and ask they seemed to think we should wait a while and that David should be the one to ask. Even though he told the social worker he wanted to find them they seemed a bit unconvinced. However they told us they had looked and that his parents had left their area without notifying the authorities only a year earlier. His parents are married and have been right back to the time when he was adopted. This was a surprise to us as it was very different to the original story which we had been told and had told David all these years. We think now that it is possible he may have siblings. When we can afford to go again and if David is still keen we will do everything we can to help him locate them if it’s possible.

It is interesting to note the different responses that Jon and David received from the social workers at Eastern Social Welfare in Seoul, Korea when they requested them to search for birth relatives. Jon was much younger, only eleven, when he wrote the letter to his birth mother and the social workers agreed to make contact with her for him.

However, although David requested contact with his birth mother when he was fourteen, the social workers appeared to be concerned that David was not emotionally ready to cope with meeting his birth mother at that time. Both Jon’s and David’s experiences illustrate the state structures and cultural differences which adoptees must negotiate to gain access to accurate information about their birth circumstances. While

Jon appeared relatively satisfied with his birth ‘story’, David had to wait a further period of time after his first visit to Korea to make contact. His mother, Doreen spoke to me about her conversations with David about his relinquishment. She says:

Every now and then he will open up about how he feels - usually when he is upset about something. I try to encourage him to talk. I know that he wants to find his birth mother but is worried she may not want to know him. He is planning to write to the Department to ask them to start searching. When we were over in Korea they suggested he wait a year or two so that is exactly what he had done. If they can make contact we will consider taking him back some time next year. I feel at this stage the main problem is that he feels different and the racism draws attention to this. A number of our other children have had social problems at this stage of school. David is probably going through what many children who are a bit different experience, however he has his own unique difference.

David’s need to search for birth relatives is related to his experiences of racial difference and the racism he has experienced during his school years. His experiences of racism and the experiences of other adoptees in the study will be discussed in detail further on in the thesis. His trips to Korea with his parents, however, particularly the Travelling Back, Going ‘Home’ – (Part One) 93

second trip allowed David to work through some issues. On returning from the second trip Doreen wrote me a brief but elated email:

Just a quick note to let you know that we went to Korea in June and following what we see as a miracle, we met David’s birth family, his mother, brother and sister. It was a wonderful experience for us all especially David and was very positive. We had lunch with them on the day we met and then spent a whole day out together and they saw us off at the airport. Have lots of photos and great memories.

Some time later Doreen wrote again to give me further details about meeting David’s birth family and how the meetings and ongoing contact have affected David. She writes:

The meeting with David’s family went very well. At the first meeting our social worker was the translator. She was lovely and very excited about the whole process. She had managed to locate his family because she had worked previously at the orphanage where David’s brother had spent his school years. We were notified by DOCS about a month before we went to Korea that he had a brother and sister but that they couldn't locate them. I now believe that they were just checking for our reaction before proceeding any further. David’s brother and sister had never been told about David and their Mum told them about two weeks before we arrived.

Finding he had an older brother and sister was a shock to David but not a total surprise as we had suspected since our trip to Korea in 2000 that it could be a possibility. On our second meeting with his family a nice young Uni student who had lived in Britain for two years came as our translator for the day and spoke very good English. We spent a lovely day at the Seoul zoo. Then his family came to see us off at the airport without a translator and we discovered that his brother and sister could read a little English so we wrote notes and managed to find out a little more. Since coming home we have written once and received one letter. ESWS requested that we write through them, however this delays mail for about three months.

I do think it has helped David to come to terms with some of the issues but has probably raised others. He is saving to go back for a holiday when he finishes school at the end of next year but seems more settled at home. The first meeting was very emotional for everyone there, especially his birth mother who carries a lot of guilt and tends to put herself down. I think the meeting will probably bring some healing for her. Though it was very positive there were some mixed emotions. For example, I found it hard when David said he didn't want to come home. We did have an opportunity to discuss some of these feelings together later which was helpful. I think honest communication is the best way to handle the feelings. Of course this is impossible with his Korean family as the language and cultural differences make it almost impossible to find out how they really feel and communication was fairly superficial. We found out more from the letter his birth mum wrote to us afterward so maybe letters will help.

Doreen’s observations about the meeting with David’s birth family having helped with some issues “but probably raised others” are consistent with stories told by other adoptees who have made contact with birth relatives. Barriers relating to language and Travelling Back, Going ‘Home’ – (Part One) 94

cultural differences are also often mentioned by adoptees following reunion and this will be further explored in the next chapter when the search experiences of the ‘older’ adoptees are discussed. However, what appears to set the adolescent accounts of returning to their birth country apart from those of the adult adoptees who returned much later, is the intense involvement and support provided by their adoptive parents.

This is not to say that adoptees in the ‘older’ group did not have the support of their parents but that all support needs to be viewed as subject to the socio-political structures and constraints of the time.

As mentioned previously, not all the young Korean adoptees in the study had the opportunity to visit Korea in their youth. Two of the adoptees, Melody and Linnea,

Korean-Australian adoptees, were both aged twenty at the time of our discussions and were studying at Universities in different cities. Both girls had experienced the separation and divorce of their adoptive parents; while Linnea’s parents separated when she was quite young, Melody’s parents divorced when she was an adolescent.

Melody comes from a large family with six siblings, three non-adopted and three adopted from Korea. Linnea by contrast has one non-adopted older brother who went to live with her father when Linnea was quite young, while Linnea stayed with her mother when her parents separated.

Neither had travelled to Korea when we first spoke. However, like the 1.5 generationers spoken of earlier, while Linnea did not have the opportunity to travel with her parents in her youth, her interest in travelling grew while she was studying at University. Our discussions included her plans to travel and some time later we talked about her time in Korea and her thoughts and feelings after the trip.

Travelling Back, Going ‘Home’ – (Part One) 95

Linnea’s story differs from the young adoptees who made their first journey back to

Korea with their adoptive parents. Linnea describes why she wished to take the journey:

I leave for Korea on the 29 th of June to start a language program at Kyung Hee University courtesy of a scholarship from Eastern. My first priority for the visit is to learn about and experience Korea first hand. I hope to pick up some language along the way, but I think I really just want to see the place and try (at least) to understand the Korean 'way' and what my life could have been if I'd never left Korea. I have thought a little about finding my birth parents, while I’m there. My friend Alison went on the same program last year. She has said that some of the American adoptees who she went with found their birth parents within hours or days of searching. The consensus among returned adoptees seems to be that Eastern Social Workers are more likely to help and take action in a search, if the adoptee is there, in Korea, at the offices, rather than miles away in their home country writing letters. So in the back of mind, I guess I’m hoping that something miraculous like this might happen for me. Though I’m not holding my breath. I’ve asked my Mum to put some photos of me, throughout childhood together that I can take, just in case I find my birth family.

I think for a lot of my friends who have returned to find their birth family, their issues have been centred on wanting to find 'something'. I don't know if any of them have really been sure what that is. For some, it has been a good experience - maybe like the closing of a chapter in a book, bringing some sort of understanding to light. For others it has created more issues, I think. When some adoptees meet their families, the family is spinning white lies about how the adoption occurred and the reasons etc. so, of course this is confusing and upsetting. Then when they come home to Australia, there is a sense of obligation to keep in contact with the family and the language barrier prevents this from happening. It’s like running a long distance, tripping over obstacles only to be faced by a brick wall - they can't maintain any kind of meaningful relationship with their birth family. These are just my thoughts on other peoples' experiences.

I made the decision to search for my birth family around this time last year. However it was motivated less by a real desire to actually find them and more by some superficial reasons, like because other adoptees I knew had found theirs and my boyfriend at the time had suggested we travel to Korea together (another thing my heart wasn't really set on) and I had thought "I might as well meet them if I’m there, what have I got to lose?". Even now, this is not something at the forefront of my thinking...I would like to find them, but namely because I want to see what they look like - find out which physical characteristics and mannerisms I share with which parent. I guess, I would also like my birth mother to know that she did the right thing, that I’m OK and that I’m grateful to her. I think that it’s unrealistic for me to expect a relationship to develop between us (Linnea – Korean-Australian adoptee – Age 20).

Linnea’s thoughts about searching for her birth parents are not unlike Jon’s. She was curious to find out “which characteristics and mannerisms I share with which parent” but also wanted to tell her birth mother “that she did the right thing”. Unlike Jon however, Linnea managed to meet her birth mother twice but the meetings appeared to leave her feeling somewhat disorientated. Like David’s experience, the language and cultural barriers proved difficult to overcome and at this time, Linnea had no future Travelling Back, Going ‘Home’ – (Part One) 96

plans to maintain contact. Linnea wrote to me while she was staying in Seoul, prior to meeting her birth mother and provided an update on her trip:

I’m still here! It’s been nearly two months. I was studying Korean on scholarship from Eastern for the first month. I went to the adoptee gathering in the beginning of August and since then have been sightseeing and partying. but I have made the big decision and decided to stay in Korea, just till the end of the year. I really didn’t think that two months was long enough, so after consideration extended my ticket and applied for an F4 visa. I’ve been through a couple of bouts of homesickness (am experiencing one currently) but I’m acclimatising very gradually...So...I guess I could say that this trip has been everything I expected...I’ve had so many great experiences and I’ve met lots of great people (there’s SO many adoptees in and around the place in Seoul). I hope that this continues to be a positive experience. It’s been quite amazing so far! BTW, do you or any of 'the adoptive parent community' know of any Australians who are living in Seoul at the moment? I haven’t met one Australian living here and would love to hear an Aussie accent! All of the adoptee community here is American and European. I’m in need of a compatriot! Haha (Linnea – Korean-Australian adoptee – Age 20).

After responding to this letter, I did not hear from her for some weeks so I sent an email to see how she was going. I was surprised to receive a letter saying that she had decided to come back to Australia early. She says:

It must be ages since I last wrote you. I’m actually back in Australia!! I’ve been back just over a week now. After about a month of contemplation and many teary nights, I decided that I just wasn’t quite ready to stay in Korea for anything longer than a holiday…I’m glad that I left, but having been away for 3 months and to not come home to Uni or a job, I’ve been feeling a little lost. I’m gradually gaining focus again though. Since it’s been so long, I guess you wouldn’t know that I also found my birth mother. In the last fortnight before I left, my social worker at Eastern called me and told me she had found her and that she wanted to meet me. It was strange and something I haven’t yet processed. I met her on two different occasions and both times I felt quite detached, lost for words and unable to properly grasp exactly what was going on. I wish that I had better Korean language skills, so I could have understood what they were saying to me in their own words, rather than through the broken English of my social worker. I think I told them I might go back to Korea next summer...but it was left quite open ended. I don’t think she'll try contacting me and I don’t know if or when I might try to contact her again.

Linnea’s story of reunion illustrates well Yngvesson’s ideas on the “loss of bearings” associated with some adoptees’ experiences of returning to one’s birth country. While the compelling nature of the myth of the return suggests that the journey is necessary to achieve a sense of ‘wholeness’, stories such as Linnea’s disrupt the idea that returning to one’s roots will somehow result in ‘completeness’. Rather, as Yngvesson’s suggests, “roots trips reveal the precariousness of ‘I am’, the simultaneous fascination and terror evoked by what might have been, and a longing for the safety of home” Travelling Back, Going ‘Home’ – (Part One) 97

(Yngvesson 2003:8). Linnea’s story has much in common with some of the older group of adoptees who were unable to return to their birth countries until they were in their late twenties or early thirties. Linnea returned to Korea for the first time alone, without parental or other support and as she states on a “quest for identity”. However, on her second visit to Korea a year later, Linnea spent more time with her birth family. At the time of our last correspondence in January 2006, Linnea was teaching English to elementary school students and enjoying her social life with expatriate Korean-

American adoptees.

The other young Korean adoptees who returned for the first time with their parents experienced Korea differently to Linnea’s first return journey. They managed to explore their preconceptions about their birth country, compare aspects of Korean culture to their life in Australia and return home with predominantly positive memories. It has allowed them to determine their own choices about issues such as searching and also to consider their adoption in a broader global sense, that is, to consider such things as gender inequalities, power imbalances and the social, political and economic factors which have contributed to their relinquishment. In this way ‘Korea’ is not some unknown or mythologised place to be fantasized about or to be feared, but rather as just one part of their hybrid identity, Korea will continue to influence what they will become.

The following chapter will consider the experiences of adoptees from Vietnam,

Malaysia and Sri Lanka in relation to returning to their birth countries and consider how particular socio-cultural contexts have impacted the way they see themselves and their ongoing connection to their birth countries.

98

CHAPTER SIX

Travelling Back – (Part Two)

In many ways the Korean adoptee accounts of returning to their birth country discussed in the last chapter stand in direct contrast to the accounts of the Sri Lankan, Malaysian and Vietnamese adoptees in this study. Some of the Korean adoptees had been given the opportunity to travel to Korea with their adoptive parents in their youth and had experienced ‘Korea’ through a younger person’s eyes. While the two older Sri Lankan adoptees had also travelled to Sri Lankan with their parents in their youth, their experiences of their birth country were very different to the younger Korean adoptees.

The Korean adoptees had returned home to Australia with primarily positive memories and with an ongoing interest in learning more about their birth culture and with the ability to imagine how Korea may continue to influence the people they will become.

So how are the Korean adoptee experiences different from the accounts of the other adoptees in the study? How does the particular socio-cultural and political contexts of those who were adopted from Vietnam, Malaysia and Sri Lanka compare to the Korean experience of returning to the birth country? How are the personal motivations as well as societal pressures different for those who arrived in Australia in the 1970s compared to those who arrived a decade or more later in the 1980s and 1990s?

This chapter will attempt to explore these questions through an analysis of the accounts of adoptees born in Sri Lanka, Vietnam and Malaysia. The Vietnamese and

Malaysian adoptees in the study, aged between 26 and 34 at the time we first spoke, show many similarities between their accounts of returning to their country of birth as adults. However, there are also differences between their accounts which provide a Travelling Back – (Part Two) 99

glimpse into the complexities involved when considering the interplay between personal experiences and the socio-political conditions of the time.

The group of three Sri Lankan adoptees are aged 21, 26 and 30. The eldest two, unlike the Vietnamese and Malaysian adoptees, had travelled to their country of birth as children accompanied by their parents. Their recollections of these early trips were not similar to the positive accounts provided by some of the adolescent Korean adoptees. I will commence the discussion by considering some of their early memories of their return journeys.

The Sri Lankan Experience

Mallika, age 26, was born in Sri Lanka and adopted into an Australian family at age five months. She lives in one of Australia’s capital cities and is the oldest of four adopted siblings - an adopted Korean sister, age 24, a brother, age 17 from Korea and a sister, age 20 from Sri Lanka. Mallika’s experiences of growing up in Australia have been predominantly positive. She says, “being adopted has never caused me any problems”.

However, her memories of visiting Sri Lanka at age six contrast sharply with the young

Korean adoptees’ recollections of travelling to Korea. She says:

Our family of four travelled to Sri Lanka (SL) when I was six (1983) to adopt my sister. We spent 3-4 weeks there and I did not enjoy this trip very much. I am quite dark (will try to find a photo for you), so that put me pretty low on the caste system. I was not very popular with some of the kids we met, like groups of girls on the beaches - there was I with my white parents and a pale Korean sister and they kept asking my parents "why did you take her, I'm better, take me instead". This made me angry and quite upset, and I felt uncomfortable most days. I was glad to leave the country with my new sister and have never wanted to go back.

People often tell me how beautiful SL is, and that I should go back. My partner has recently said he'd like to visit SL, so I could go with him. I'm not sure how access would go with my wheelchair, so I could use that as an excuse why not to go! I guess I would be more comfortable going now as an adult, even though my partner is white...I expect it would still be quite strange. I'd expect many questioning looks from people. I don't speak a word of the language either. As a young family we went to Bali many many times...we spoke a little Indo, and it was always important to know how to explain "adopted child". (Mallika – Sri Lankan-Australian adoptee – Age 26).

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Mallika’s account of returning to Sri Lanka points to the polarity of her inferior position in the Sri Lankan caste system as opposed to her acquired position in a middle-class white Australian family and the complexities this presents on her return journey.

However, there seems to be no ambivalence about her recollections of that time, only her desire to return to the familiarity of her life in Australia. Mallika’s account also reveals the social and cultural pressures placed on her in Australia to return once again to Sri Lanka. In response to my question about whether she had thought about searching for any members of her birth family, Mallika said:

No. Not until the last few weeks when I thought it would be nice to write to the orphanage where I came from to see if they knew anything about my birth mother - we know her name, and where she was from but nothing more. I don't mind if they can't give me any information...it's only slight curiosity and I have never written before because I feel completely removed from Sri Lanka. It's not my country and I have no connection with the culture.

My birth mother was 20 when she had me and I'm positive she would have been unmarried. If she is still alive, I expect she is now in a family situation and that they would have no idea about me. I would not want to jeopardise what she has built for herself by making contact - there are cultural barriers that exist around adoption in that country - shame even around unwed mothers? It would be entirely selfish of me to disrupt her life. However, I would feel inclined to make contact with her if I received in formation that she was suffering or alone, but she is not my mother and I would not feel connected to her in a mother-daughter way. I do not resent her for giving me up for adoption. I feel that was a very strong thing to do and gave me opportunities she could never have provided. (Mallika – Sri Lankan-Australian adoptee – Age 26).

There appears to be no “overwhelming desire” to make contact with either the birth family or birth culture on Mallika’s part. Her feelings about searching are not unlike some of the younger female Korean adoptees who also have a “slight curiosity” to know more about their birth families. Mallika, like Korean adoptee, Jon, is concerned about the impact her appearing on the scene may have on her birth mother. She is aware of the shame and secrecy associated with unwed mothers in Sri Lanka, which is not unlike the situation of young birth mothers in Korea, and has been able to better understand her relinquishment by considering her position within the broader socio- cultural context in Sri Lanka. As we will see when issues about belonging (to family and to nation), are discussed in a chapter to follow, Mallika’s cultural identity appears to be Travelling Back – (Part Two) 101

firmly grounded in Australia. Her position differs from many of the other participants in the ‘older’ group from Vietnam and Malaysia and also differs from the ‘older’ Sri Lankan adoptee, Kristen.

However, Mallika’s ideas on searching are not unique in the broader body of empirical evidence on the topic. Elizabeth Bartholet suggests that The Adoption Triangle , published in 1978, started a trend in the literature “that describes adoptees, birth parents and adoptive parents as suffering lifelong pain” associated with losses seen as inherent in the practice of adoption. Reunion with birth families is viewed as necessary to alleviate the pain of the relinquishment (Bartholet 1993: 176). In Australia, groups such as Origins Inc. promote a similar message. Accounts by the younger Korean adoptees in this study question the biological deterministic view of identity which generalises about the ‘adoptee condition’ and sees search and reunion as the only way that adoptees will ever know ‘who they really are’. Nor do the accounts such as

Mallika’s and the younger Sri Lankan adoptee, Amara’s, ‘fit’ this.

Amara, age 21, was born in Sri Lanka, adopted at 29 days old and grew up in a major

Australian city with her two parents. Like Mallika, Amara’s cultural identity appears to be firmly grounded in Australia. Her adoptive father’s background is Swiss and she sees Switzerland as her second home. I spoke to Amara a number of times by phone and she also wrote letters to me via ‘snail’ mail. Amara had contributed a chapter to

‘The Colour of Difference ’ (2001) project and here she says:

I have a good sense of who I am. In terms of culture and identity, I am Australian. My identity includes being Sri Lankan and Swiss, but I don’t see myself in three individual parts. There is no friction or confusion but rather a sense of wholeness. When I look in the mirror I see Amara – not colour, appearance, culture or questions. I fit in completely – in my family, in Australia (Armstrong 2001:28).

Amara spoke to me about her interest in searching for her birth mother, how “curiosity” is her major motivation for wanting to make contact, how she would like to know what Travelling Back – (Part Two) 102

her birth mother looks like, who her birth father is and what is their story. She had first shown an interest in searching when she was an adolescent – her adoptive mother had commenced the search but had “hit a dead end”. At the time we spoke, Amara was pursuing the search herself through a Sri Lankan contact. She spoke about the frustrations involved in the process which she described as a “bit of a scam” and spoke about her disappointment at not hearing from the contact for many months.

Amara, like Mallika is very aware of the impact her turning up on the scene could mean for her birth mother. She does not wish to disrupt her birth mother’s new family but wants to let her know that she doesn't feel angry. She spoke of an article she had read from birthparents who had to relinquish children and learnt that it was “a kind of mourning, a loss like a death, but they (the children) haven't died...a lifelong thing". She went on to say:

I couldn't say that I think of my birth mother every day…she probably thinks about me a lot more that I think about her but I want her to know that I have a huge amount of respect for her...for the decision she made and I'm not angry…I would like her to know that I think she made the right decision and that it has worked out well (Amara – Sri Lankan- Australian adoptee – Age 21).

Amara’s and Mallika’s senses of self contrasted with the oldest Sri Lankan adoptee in the study, Kristen, age 30. Kristen was adopted at around 18 months old by her white

Australian adoptive father and Sri Lankan born adoptive mother. Her adoptive mother had immigrated to Australia with her Sri Lankan family when she was a teenager.

Kristen has four older non-adopted siblings, the eldest sibling being 17 years older than

Kristen and the youngest five years older. Kristen’s adoptive mother died when Kristen was just ten years old and this event was to have a major impact on the direction her life would take. I spoke to Kristen on the phone and she also chose to record the responses to most of my questions on audio tapes rather than via email letters. Her struggle with issues of belonging and racial isolation will be discussed in greater depth in the chapters to follow. In relation to this discussion on return journeys though, Travelling Back – (Part Two) 103

Kristen did travel back to Sri Lanka with her parents about a year before her mother died and her account of the journey is not unlike Mallika’s recollections. She says:

Probably about a year before my mum died...it could be a year...I sort of can't really remember really now...it could have only been a number of months...that I made my very first trip back to Sri Lanka...just the four of us went back (mother, father, youngest non- adopted brother)...and it was...I don't have many memories of the trip aside from hating the smell of the country, hating that there were all these poor people around and that didn't have any money and who were approaching us and asking us for money and food and things like that...I remember being extremely sick at the time of our stay in Sri Lanka...but it was interesting to see that we had taken 3 months leave and when we went we did a month in India and a month in Fiji and a month in Sri Lanka...and what surprised me that it was only during the Sri Lankan part of my trip that I became sick…and I don't know...maybe you could of related that back to the fact that it is my birth country and something else was going on for me there...but I'm not really sure...

Things that I didn't enjoy about the trip were people coming up and talking to me in Singhalese and not being able to understand what they were saying...and I felt embarrassed by that because I couldn't speak the language and I felt embarrassed that I was being stared at because of course I was dressed like a Western child…but you know I looked like them...so that embarrassed me as well...and of course walking around with my parents that attracted just as much attention...they didn't look anything like me...so what I was finding being over in Sri Lanka was a similar experience to being in Australia and people were still looking at me very strangely and I felt during a lot of my youth very uncomfortable being around my family because it just stood out that I was very different to them…

I didn't enjoy the trip...I came back to Australia saying to my parents that I no longer wanted to go there again...I didn't wish to see Sri Lanka...I didn't at the time go back and visit the hospital where I was originally left...I'm not sure why my parents didn't take me back there...but they didn't but it was great that I did the trip anyway...

It’s only in hindsight that I wish that my parents had forced me to go back again...I mean I wouldn't have gone back kicking and screaming...I might have just have been a bit upset but I'm sure I would have because I would have basically overcome that because I believe that had I been taken back to Sri Lanka more regularly it would have helped me adjust eventually and it would have helped me to accept myself much more had they had done that...but of course they didn't and so that was my one and only trip to Sri Lanka...

I think it is much better for children to be taken back to their birth country on a regular period throughout their youth...I think leaving it to I was 10 years old was probably a little too late...I think I should have been there much sooner and I would have accepted it more than I did (Kristen – Sri Lankan-Australian adoptee – Age 30).

Both Mallika and Kristen’s recollections of Sri Lanka as children show their struggle to understand the enormous cultural differences they encountered. While Mallika was eager to return to the familiarity and security of her life in Australia, Kristen spoke about her feelings of not belonging in either country. Mallika has shown no eagerness to return to her birth country as an adult although others have tried to encourage her to journey to Sri Lanka. Kristen, on the other hand, has a need to travel back to find “the Travelling Back – (Part Two) 104

missing pieces to my birth jigsaw, my history”. Hers is a “quest for identity”, not unlike many of the older Vietnamese and Malaysian adoptees who have also expressed feelings of racial isolation and periods in their lives of not belonging within their family and within their adopted nation.

Kristen talked about her planned trip to Sri Lanka:

I am about to go back to Sri Lanka in February next year. This is my very first trip back since I was 10. My reasons for wanting to go back are to discover...you know...to discover more about myself because I feel that of course I live in Australia and I am Sri Lankan but I feel that there is a huge gaping hole in what I know about my birth country. Its really difficult when people ask me if I can cook wonderful curries…and I must be able to cook wonderful curries...and I can cook curries but I am no brilliant chef so that’s something I really want to learn...

I don't have a great deal of interest in learning the language but I do know a lot of adoptees that do. I’m going to go back to my...you know...well, the place I was left at the hospital and see if there are any records that have been kept. From what I have been told there usually isn't but I'm going to give it a shot because I know that dealing with that hospital its much easier to be there in person than over the phone or through letters or emails...

From what I have been told my uncle (in Sri Lanka) possibly has much more information on me regarding my adoption but hasn't told anyone so I will also speak with him about that when I am over there…

My Dad is quite happy for me to be going back to Sri Lanka and he has always been supportive about helping me find my parents, locating my birth parents but so far we have really come up with nothing…One of my sisters had a problem and thought that I may have been going back to Sri Lanka to search for my birth family because I had a problem with my adoptive family which just isn't true. I just have to try and go back and find pieces to what I feel is my birth jigsaw, my history and there are some missing links in that that I feel need to be looked at and try to find what the missing links are...but aside from that they all know that I am going back and I think they all hope that everything will work out for me and that I find what I am looking for (Kristen – Sri-Lankan-Australian adoptee – Age 30).

Kristen’s account of other people’s expectations that she should be able to “cook wonderful curries” points once again to questions of cultural authenticity and the extent to which some adoptees feel they need to conform to a particular image of what it means to be, for example, a ‘real’ Sri Lankan or a ‘real’ Australian. The feeling of being

‘between two cultures’, not feeling a part of either culture is present in much of the literature written on adoptee experiences in their adopted country (Armstrong 2001;

Cox 1999; Williams 2001; Williams 2003). It is also present in much of the literature Travelling Back – (Part Two) 105

from those who make up the 1.5 and second and subsequent generations of immigrants to some Western countries (Duc 2004; Hoang 2004; Thomas 1999; Butcher and Thomas 2003). This will be discussed in greater depth in the chapters to follow.

The accounts of the Vietnamese and Malaysian adoptees in this study also illustrate how the polarisation of ‘ethnic’ identities in popular and official discourse impacts on their lives. In the expectations and motivations present in their return journey narratives, a picture starts to emerge about the experiences in their lives which have contributed to their need to return.

The Vietnamese Experience

The Vietnamese adoptees who returned to their birth country as adults have described many of the complexities, ambivalences and contradictory elements of their return journeys. Their accounts differ from the younger Korean adoptees in their motivations, expectations and the intensity of emotion which is attached to the return trips. The

Korean adoptees by contrast show elements of innocence in their exploration of

Korean culture and in their enjoyment of the tourist attractions of the country. From this we could surmise that the differences in accounts are only related to the age and level of maturity of the adolescent adoptees which obviously impacts the way they view their birth country.

However, as mentioned in the previous chapter, deeper analysis of the Korean adoptee accounts also shows a certain level of wisdom and knowledge about the socio-cultural contexts of their relinquishment and of their subsequent life in Australia. The adolescents who chose to search for birth relatives and those who did not wish to search at this time, appear to be very aware of the socio-political factors which impacted on their birth parents’ decisions. Their life experiences growing up in Australia

(which will be considered in greater depth as the thesis progresses) have also been Travelling Back – (Part Two) 106

somewhat different to many of the early experiences of the first adoptees to arrive here from Vietnam.

The younger adoptees have been brought up at a time when ‘openness’ in adoption issues and celebration and exploration of cultural difference is encouraged. As we will see when we explore issues of race and belonging later on in the thesis, the

Vietnamese and Malaysian adoptees spent their childhood and adolescent years at a different time in Australia’s history, a time when ‘difference’, particularly racial difference was viewed with suspicion by some and with ignorance by many.

The Vietnam War ended with the fall of Saigon in 1975 and the country remained closed to visitors for some time. Following the abolition of the 14 which had restricted immigration of non-whites to Australia, refugees from Indochina started to arrive in the country. Anne-Louise, age 34, wrote to me via email letters about coming to Australia for medical reasons at age five in 1973 prior to the end of the war and how she did not manage to return to her birth country until 1990 when she was

22. Anne-Louise, like Amara, participated in the Colour of Difference project. She says:

I was born in the south of Vietnam in 1968. As far as I know, I had enough eye sight to find my way round the orphanage I was placed in. I was brought out to Australia at the age of 5, 1973 by Red Cross International to see if the doctors here could restore my eyesight back to me. However, this was unsuccessful. I was only meant to stay in Australia two years. Due to the fall of Vietnam in 1975, I could not go back (Anne-Louise – Vietnamese-Australian adoptee – Age 34).

Anne-Louise’s experience of being sent to Australia at the age of five for medical treatment was unlike that of the other Vietnamese adoptees in the study who had come to Australia as infants under two and been placed in their adoptive families not long after their arrival. Because she was unable to return to Vietnam after Saigon fell,

14 The Immigration Restriction Act of 1901 established a racial distinction between whites and non-whites, those who were deemed capable of assimilation and those who were not based on Social Darwinian racial theories of the time. ‘Inferior’ races were believed to lower the quality of life and there was also the concern that the emerging Asian nations of the region may be a political threat to Australia. (Kivisto 2002; Murphy 1993).

Travelling Back – (Part Two) 107

Anne-Louise was to endure 13 foster families from age five until she left school. Her last foster family, where she finally managed to form a loving relationship with her foster mother, led to her being adopted when she was 22. Around this time, a friend encouraged her to make her first return trip to Vietnam:

My first trip took place in the end of 1990. At the time, Vietnam was just beginning to open up. So, as you can understand, there was only one company that were dealing in trips to Vietnam. However, I went as a private citizen rather than a tour. As I mentioned to you in my last message, I have a friend who helps me when needed. Well, she helped me in regards to writing letters to find out just which orphanage I came from. It was quite a long process. My friend started writing mid 1989. In the meantime, I too had asked another of my friends to help me in the letter writing. Anyway, the end result was that, we finally had some news from the sisters who were said to have taken care of me while I was young. We sent photos of me…when I was younger…the trip to Vietnam took quite a lot of organizing. At the time, I was seeing a counsellor. I was not permitted to travel alone unless I had someone who would meet me at the other end…so, I decided to take her. She did not enjoy it, but, she came for the free ride. Let's face it, that is why she came but enough about her…

When I finally landed in Vietnam, the feeling was one of pure joy. I felt at last, I had come home. However, I knew I could never stay there. But just the same, it was a happy reunion when I met up with the sister who knew me as a child. Everything felt so familiar. It was like magic. I went back three times after that on my own. It was much better for me too. At the first time, I could not speak Vietnamese, but fortunately, I could speak French and, so was able to communicate with the sister in French. However, I had to act as translator to the companion I brought along. It was quite tiring but I enjoyed my first trip. Nothing would ever meet that peace I felt (Anne-Louise – Vietnamese-Australian adoptee– Age 34).

Anne-Louise’s return journeys were about reconnection with the only place she had ever felt a sense of belonging. She says about her time in Australia:

I have never felt at home here in Australia. And, yet, I know I do not belong in Vietnam either. So, I am in between two worlds. However, I see myself as Vietnamese. And yet, I know I am not a part of their community, although I have a bonding there - a kinship so to speak (Anne-Louise – Vietnamese-Australian adoptee – Age 34).

Anne-Louise’s feelings of familiarity and emotional connection with her birth country echo some of the feelings of other Vietnamese adoptees such as My Dung

(pronounced My Yoong). My Dung, age 28, was born in Vietnam in 1974 and was placed in an orphanage in South Vietnam. Like most of the Vietnamese adoptees in this study she was one of the many babies airlifted out of Vietnam in 1975 at the end of the war in the procedure known as Operation Babylift . My Dung joined her adoptive Travelling Back – (Part Two) 108

family, her parents and their two non-adopted sons when she was fifteen months old.

Her parents divorced when she was five years old and she was raised by her mother with contact limited to school holidays with her father who remarried. Her parent’s separation, as described by My Dung, “unfortunately, caused many problems for us kids, where we were put in a position of choosing one parent over the other”. Like many of the other adoptees discussed here, My Dung was to experience layers of difference which would impact on her life chances and choices.

She spoke about her return trip to Vietnam where it seems that her level of familiarity and comfort in her birth country mirrored Anne-Louise’s feelings. When My Dung first mentioned her return to Vietnam she said:

I have been back to Vietnam and the orphanage that I was in. It's funny, because when we landed in Saigon, I really felt I was going somewhere familiar and I felt really comfortable being there. I could walk down the street and be just like any other Asian and not be looked at sideways, but as my brother said, "my cover was blown" as soon as I spoke! After this experience, I really identified as an Asian/Australian. I felt sad though, that I had missed out on that culture and wondered what it would have been like if I'd have stayed there (My Dung – Vietnamese-Australian adoptee – Age 28).

My Dung says her trip to Vietnam allowed her to identify as an “Asian-Australian”, a label she had obviously not ‘owned’ prior to her return journey. This poses a number of questions in relation to racial identity which will be addressed throughout the following chapters, for example, why did it take a return trip to her birth country to enable My

Dung to identify as an “Asian-Australian”? And what effect would it have had on her life had she had the opportunity to experience her birth culture in her youth? My Dung travelled to Vietnam with her “first stepmother, (because I'm onto my second!)” in her late twenties. She spoke about her motivations for returning, what she managed to find out about her birth history and how she reacted:

My whole purpose of returning to Vietnam was to find out about my culture and to return to my orphanage. We went to the orphanage and met some of the original nuns, still there since the war. They only had a book of baptismal certificates, all other records were destroyed. I found mine. It was amazing…Fran cried, the nuns cried and I just sat there in amazement - that I was there, that I was "home" that I'd met these wonderful women. I Travelling Back – (Part Two) 109

was shown around the grounds and the hall where I was baptised. It is a childcare centre now. I met another orphan who stayed there and now lives on the grounds with her child. It's hard to summarise what it was like, but needless to say, it was AMAZING! They kept saying, "you're home", "you've returned to your motherland". It was very cool!! I took baby photos and left contact details should anyone ever return there enquiring about me.

We went to the hospital and the equivalent of our "births, deaths and marriages" office and all were the same, all records before 1975 were destroyed. Our hotel staff got in contact with the "witness" on my birth certificate, but she also said all records were destroyed and she couldn't remember any particular child or situation because there were so many of us (My Dung – Vietnamese-Australian adoptee – Age 28).

My Dung’s experience of destroyed records is reiterated in the experiences of the other

Vietnamese adoptees who have attempted to trace birth relatives. Indigo Williams, writing on the adopted Vietnamese diaspora, says:

The desire of a homeland is the something that unites the adopted Vietnamese community. Many adopted Vietnamese have visited their birth country in recent times and many others express a desire to go back and explore their heritage and also to search for any surviving relatives (Williams, 2001).

In the chaos surrounding the airlift children left the country with little identifying documentation or documentation that contained incorrect information. Indi, a

Vietnamese war orphan who was one of the first adoptees to arrive in Australia says:

My own search starts with my birth documents – a birth certificate etc. but when I was in Vietnam I didn’t even bother looking for my orphanage. I didn’t feel I wanted to see Vietnam for the first time and stress over lost paper trails etc. I think Ty Andre can sum up a bit of why I didn’t go at it tooth and nails.

Indi goes on to quote Ty Andre, a Vietnam war orphan who writes:-

Among the thousands of babies who passed through Sancta Maria, only a handful had birth certificates. There were no papers for the children who’d been abandoned, or whose parents had been killed. Every birth certificate had its price…a Western official would tell (the orphanage owner) how many birth certificates he needed and the owner would negotiate a price’ (Ty, 1997).

Indi’s concerns are also voiced by other Vietnamese adoptees such as Sue, age 28.

She decided after pursuing the “paper trail” as far as she could, that she did not feel emotionally prepared to search for her birth mother on her first journey back. Sue says: Travelling Back – (Part Two) 110

I fully realise that I may not find her (my birthmother), that my document I have are not mine, but those belonging to a deceased infant, purchased as an identity when I had none to allow me to leave Vietnam. I know too that she may not want to be found, and that she could be anywhere in the world now. And of course (it is possible) that she is dead. All these are still hypothetical pragmatic outcomes that I am trying not to get emotionally attached to (Sue – Vietnamese-Australian adoptee – Age 28).

My Dung spoke about her plans for the future in relation to Vietnam and said “One of my long-term goals is to live and work in Vietnam. I want to learn about my heritage and culture and I want to be proud of that.” While her trip allowed her to begin the process of ongoing exploration of her birth culture she expressed sadness that she had

“missed out on my heritage and culture” and whilst in Vietnam felt like a “tourist in a

Vietnamese body” . My Dung’s also expressed ambivalence about her class status in

Australia and how this impacted on her experiences in Vietnam. She says:

I felt very lucky for what I have, and yet selfish that I had "so much" while "my own people" had so little. It was my first and only time of being a multi-millionaire! It frustrated and angered me that tourists were bartering over, say, 50,000 Dong, when it meant about 50 cents or something back home. I bartered once, when a motorbike driver was clearly charging me an amount that was truly huge and ridiculous to ask for.

While My Dung highlighted the socio-economic inequalities between her life in a

Western country and her birth country, Sue was concerned about gender and race issues and the way she thought she would be perceived by the local people in

Vietnam. Sue spoke about how her parents had exposed her to a culturally diverse childhood and instilled in her a love of travelling but that she had delayed returning to her birth country until she was emotionally prepared. She spoke about her motivations for returning and the gender and other concerns which marked her journey:

I love to travel. I have travelled throughout Europe and Asia. Trekked, cruised and back packed and "hotelled" around. When I was 17 years old and I gained my first own passport I began travelling a lot to all sorts of countries other than Vietnam. I soon realised that I was choosing places to go that were specifically not Vietnam and quickly started to ask myself why. I knew that especially at 17yrs I was not ready to face the enormity of returning for many reasons. For the same reason as I chose not to take up the opportunity to socialise with Vietnamese in Australia, I felt that I had no understanding of what I would gain from the relationship or travel experience. I was confused as to my personal relationship with the country and its people. I knew that my analytical mind would not let me enter the experiences without having a fairly good understanding of what my expectations were. I had plenty of other growing up issues to distract me from my pending return to my birth country. Travelling Back – (Part Two) 111

I was worried about how the local people might see and treat me. There was plenty of stories about returning country folks being seen as traitors and scorned by those who stayed. I was not impressed either by issues of Asian or Eurasian females being quickly labelled as prostitutes. There were enough implications of that sort of racism in Australia without finding that in my birth country. I never fantasized about my return to Vietnam. I never held any real expectations or dreams about reunions of acceptance. I always felt that I would return some day though I had absolutely no idea of how I would come to feel and know in my heart that it was time to do so.

Sue went on to explain her intricate preparations leading up to the trip and how she finally made the decision to travel with her white male partner:

My partner was always keen to go to Vietnam though I had serious doubts as to whether I should go with him given the even lesser integrity that I had heard inter racial relationships was seen in. The last thing I needed was to seen as was a prostitute with a white foreign guy. My build up to returning to Vietnam was very slow and calm. I registered with all government departments for information of myself, not expecting to really find anything. In the mean time I busied myself with finding out the stories behind the great adoption fights that were had with adoptive parents (to be) and government departments. The main groups in Australia being AAFA and ASIA(C). Non professional parent groups lobbying government against the "white Australia" policies of the 60's and 70's. It is all very interesting and I began to get very curious about it all and the network began to quickly widen as I spoke to more people. To my great surprise I received information from the Department of Family Services (name keeps changing as government does). To that time though I had no information about myself as a reflection of the old laws forbidding even the adoptive parents from knowing if and what documents were being used in the courts for my adoption. Once I started investigations about my identity things got really interesting and it was until I practically exhausted my research avenues that I began to actually feel the earnest desire to go back to Vietnam...

The day that I booked the flight I knew that I needed David to come with me. To take my adoptive mother did not feel right although we spoke about it and she almost came. It was seen more important for her to stay at home and help look after our daughter who too young to come with us. I felt that I needed emotional support and David had been working closely with me over the last few months in my research. It was time that I faced my fabricated fears and found out what the reality would really be like. By then I had spoken to so many people from all sorts of backgrounds, in relation to Vietnam and adoptions that I was tired of hearing their stories and wanted to experience the good and the bad for myself.

In the end I didn't experience any sort of physical of verbal abuse that I knew of. I did not understand the language so anything that was said in Vietnamese I didn't understand anyway. The people that spoke to me were very helpful and friendly, all were interested in my history…I was still different, and that meant that every stranger wanted to know why and how. I expected things to be difficult. Tracking down addresses of places and people but in fact it was very easy. I was quite timid but David encouraged me to speak to people and go in and investigate. I went to the hospital that I was registered at and found a nurse who was still working there. She had been working there since 1972 and was responsible for the registration of most babies orphans. I was able to get authorised copies of my registration from one of the Saigon Central Registration offices with out any overt corruption. I visited the orphanage where I was, Sancta Maria Orphanage, Gia Dinh. In the District Office documents that I picked up after 4 days, I discovered my mother’s age and where she lived. (I already had her name from the papers I received from the Australian Department a week before I left for Vietnam). Travelling Back – (Part Two) 112

I was not prepared to begin my search for my mother then, I had planned to, and knew the enormity of beginning Part B of my journey. I left my personal search there and enjoyed discovering the country itself.

Sue’s methodically planned journey and decision to allow her husband to travel with her appear to have helped her deal with the many complexities which may arise when visiting one’s birth country for the first time as an adult. Her decision not to search for her birth mother until she felt prepared to cope with the emotional dilemmas was based on an understanding of all the possible outcomes of the search, “that the documents I have are not mine, but those belonging to a deceased infant, purchased as an identity when I had none to leave Vietnam” or that her birthmother may be deceased. She says:

To go through the Part B (searching for birthmother) with my heart in a vulnerable state could be devastating I think. I also need to know that at the end of it all, in 1 or 40 years, I can say that I did a thorough job in trying to reach her, and I can only believe that if I know I am being sensible and realistic about it all (Sue – Vietnamese-Australian adoptee – Age 28).

Ana, age 29 was adopted at 10 months old by a white Australian couple who had three biological sons. Her family situation was similar to Sue’s who also grew up with two older non-adopted brothers. However, while Sue was exposed to a culturally diverse upbringing, Ana’s childhood and adolescence was more racially isolated. In some ways

Ana’s first trip to Vietnam seems to contrast significantly with Sue’s trip. Ana had planned to meet up with a male Australian friend (also adopted) who was to meet her in

Hanoi a few days into her journey to be, as Ana says, “my pillar of strength”. However, her friend phoned her the day after her arrival to say that he was unable to make the journey leaving Ana feeling emotionally devastated.

I corresponded with Ana via email letters over many months, meeting her in person on a number of occasions and maintaining contact with her over a number of years. Ana had also contributed to the Colour of Difference project and first spoke to me some time after the book was published. Over the period we have been communicating she Travelling Back – (Part Two) 113

also provided me with a number of speeches she had delivered at various public adoption gatherings and also diary entries and notes written about her adoption journey. Like other participant adoptees, Ana’s articulate style proved to be exceedingly valuable as a way to gain insight and understanding into the complexities of the return journey. In her diary of her return journey she says:

In my life I have always appreciated my good fortune in receiving the life I have; and I have always focussed on the positives of the situation. Yet deep down, I do hold a sense of hope that this trip will fill a gap that has been noticeable to me for the past few years. I do secretly hope that this journey will provide me with a sense of peace, at knowing and learning about the place I was born and the culture I have missed out on growing up with. The goals I have for this trip are:

- To gain an understanding and appreciation of my birth country and culture

- To be proud of my origins

- To visit the orphanage where I spent the first ten months of my life

- To want to return again

And here we go. The plane hits the runway and my tears fall like rain. I am in my birth country. This is the actual country that I was born in. For some reason all I want to do is cry. I can’t understand why I am so overwhelmed at being here, but I am. I really am. And I am really here. I can barely believe it.

Her friend’s inability to support her left Ana feeling abandoned, once again. She says:

People who are adopted tend to carry around an ingrained fear of abandonment, which stems from being abandoned at birth. There’s something in my psyche and in the subconscious of many other adoptees, that says ‘I must have been a bad person for my mum to not want me’...these days, my ingrained fear of being abandoned still affects my relationships (Ana – Vietnamese-Australian adoptee – Age 29).

Ana’s feelings of abandonment and ambivalence about her racial identity appear to be connected to her racially isolated upbringing and the socio-historical context of her youth and adolescence. Her motivations, expectations and her experiences in her birth country are not unique amongst the accounts of the other Vietnamese and Malaysian adoptees. However, Ana’s insights into her own vulnerability and feelings of loneliness in Vietnam do contrast with Sue’s meticulously organised, well supported journey.

Ana’s account reminds me of Linnea’s experiences and ‘loss of bearings’ when she was in Korea. Both women travelled alone and were largely unsupported in their quest Travelling Back – (Part Two) 114

to fill in the missing pieces of their early lives. However, Linnea had made the journey to Korea when she was just twenty while Ana’s first journey did not take place until she had lived another decade of her life.

Ana spent her 30 th birthday in Vietnam and this day would prove to be a momentous breakthrough for her emotional well being. Ana tells a wonderful story in her diary entries about her journey through the streets of Ho Chi Min City on the back of a motor bike with a man only known to her as ‘uncle’ (the uncle of the lady who managed the hotel where she is staying) who assists her to find the orphanage where she spent the first ten months of her life. She says, ‘Unlike Aussie men, uncle is not afraid to ask for directions, which he does numerous times throughout our 60 minute crusade, often resulting in some crafty, u-turn action. As always, heads turn when we drive by’. They managed to find the Sister (now 81 years old) who was the Director of the orphanage where Ana had spent her early months. Ana spoke about meeting “the first woman that

I ever knew as mother” and about her emotional time at the orphanage:

We pulled up to a similar security gate with the same (name) on it as the one we’d just left behind. This must be Sister T’s home. We walked into a typical Vietnamese building. Open plan, old décor and a lot of concrete. A nun/religious sister…Sister H, greeted me with a giant beaming grin. She grabbed my arm, said ‘hello’ and asked me my name. I said ‘Ana’ and she shouted ‘It is Ana’ to a moving shape in the background. That moving shape was none other than Sister T. At 81 years old, Sister T still lives and breathes childcare. She was so fragile looking but had a definite resilience about her. She too greeted me with a giant smile and warm hug. I was told by Sister H that Sister T spoke excellent French in addition to Vietnamese. I told Sister H that I didn’t speak earlier. Sister H was unofficially named interpreter for the day. Sister H asked me what my Vietnamese name was and I responded by handing her my paperwork. Like two teenage schoolgirls the two sisters giggled in delight and pointed to the appearance of Sister T’s name and signature throughout the papers. I was definitely in the right place…

We walked up a driveway. Sister T used me for support, holding my arm at all times. After a few short steps we were all stopped by a vibrant, energetic young girl whose smile was infectious. As she climbed a few stairs to greet us, I found myself doing a double take in her direction. My heart sunk she was a victim of the atrocious Agent Orange herbicide. Her name was Tham and she looked like she was only ten years old. Tham was a resident at the orphanage, having been abandoned at birth like me. Unlike me however, Tham's biological father was one of the Vietnamese soldiers exposed to the Agent Orange herbicide spray during wartime. The effects of the chemical spray have been seen more than ten years after the event. Not only do the veterans themselves suffer physical consequences, such as blindness, but their children and even their grandchildren have been known to be affected. The developmental deformities that have Travelling Back – (Part Two) 115

occurred in Agent Orange victims are so horrific even the deepest imaginations cannot come up with such results…

As we moved closer to one building the sound of crying babies grew louder and louder. Panic rose within me as realisation hit. Oh God, this was where they kept the babies. I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. We slipped our shoes off at the entrance to the building and walked through the doors. I couldn’t believe the sight. A room full, wall to wall, with stainless steel baby cots. And inside every cot was at least one baby less than 12 months old. This is what had happened to me. This is where I had been…there were ladies everywhere. Ladies to care for these babies and give them love and affection…more babies than ladies, but there were lots of ladies. And they were attentive. I wondered if these children were destined for families or whether they would simply spend the rest of their lives in this place. I was later advised it was most likely to be the latter…

I knew right then and there that I wanted to give some of my time and love to the orphans in Australia when I got back. It was my destiny to help support these abandoned children like I was once helped.

In the last ward we visited Sister H told one of the ladies in there that I was Thanh Thuy and she all too quickly for my convincing, exclaimed ‘Thanh Thuy? I remember Thanh Thuy!’ and then she continued to gesture to me she once looked after me like the baby she had in her arms right then. I thanked her and feigned belief, but I wasn’t really convinced that she was telling me the entire truth. I got the feeling that that it was a bit of a scam to extract money. I could have been wrong, but it was what my gut instinct was telling me.

When we arrived back to the security gates uncle was there, ready and waiting for me. It was almost 3pm – I’d taken up 5 ½ hours of his time! I gave Sister H a hug and thanked her for her time and love. She called me her daughter for the hundredth time that day and said she was so fantastic that I was happy and healthy. She insisted I come back and spend a while day with her and Sister T. I agreed and told her my next visit would be with my parents. I turned to Sister T and gave her a hug. I handed her (a cash donation) and also thanked her for her care and time. They both got into their car, which I noticed now had the windows up and internal air conditioning turned on. I couldn’t help but feel that once the money had been exchanged, it was time to part ways. I’d had that feeling numerous times during my trip, so wasn’t too surprised, just slightly disappointed. I had this sensation when the two sisters waved goodbye to the staff rather than to uncle and I as they drove off and out the security gates.

Despite this, my visit had been perfect. In fact, better than I had dared imagine. I gave uncle (a cash donation) also, which he was overwhelmingly grateful. I got the distinct impression that for him the day hadn’t been about money. Although we never exchanged words, I really did feel that uncle understood how important and special our adventure had been and the money confirmed the importance of his role in the day.

This milestone birthday was undoubtedly and unequivocally one of the greatest in the history of birthdays. And this trip was undoubtedly, one of the most amazing, most rewarding and most memorable journeys I could ever hope to experience.

My goals were all achieved; I did learn about and truly experience my birth country and culture; I will definitely leave with a sense of pride at being Vietnamese; and I absolutely have a yearning to return with my folks and (my boyfriend). And as a bonus, I returned home with a sense of inner peace that I have never felt before; nor did I expect to ever feel. Despite the trauma and the emotional rollercoaster, I know that everything happened as it was meant to…I understand that this journey really was something I had to do on my own.

Travelling Back – (Part Two) 116

The extent of the socio-economic gap between her life in Australia and the life of the orphans of Vietnam left Ana feeling, as did My Dung, that she wanted to give something back. However, Ana’s feelings about the Sisters’ references to the orphanage’s financial situation reminded me of the American-Vietnamese adoptee who returned as an adult to Vietnam in the documentary film Daughter from Danang . The

American adoptee, Heidi was confronted with the cultural expectation from her birth family that she would provide ongoing financial assistance to them. She was totally unprepared and overwhelmed by their request and her lack of knowledge and experience of Vietnamese cultural expectations left both the birth family and Heidi in a state of seemingly permanent misunderstanding. The documentary ends with Heidi having no ongoing contact with her birth family or Vietnam, a situation which appeared to be extremely difficult for her birth mother waiting in Vietnam for contact from her daughter (Franco 2002).

My Dung’s, Anne-Louise, Ana and Sue’s primarily positive experiences in Vietnam allowed them to plan other trips to their birth country. Many other Vietnamese- Australia adoptees made their first journey to Vietnam in their late twenties and made subsequent journeys to further explore their birth culture and birth circumstances. On the 25 th Anniversary of Operation Babylift – April 30 th , 2000, Indigo Williams-Willing, a

Vietnamese-Australian adoptee founded Adopted Vietnamese International (AVI), a website dedicated to all adopted Vietnamese and Vietnamese war orphans. That year

Indigo, age 28 travelled to Vietnam together with eight other Vietnamese adoptees.

Since that time AVI has celebrated the 30 th anniversary of Operation Babylift, assisted many other adopted Vietnamese residing in a number of Western countries and attempted to educate the international adoption community and the broader global community about the life experiences of Vietnamese adoptees.

Travelling Back – (Part Two) 117

Ana spoke about Indigo’s return journey in 2000 in a talk she delivered at the 8 th

Australian Conference on Adoption in Adelaide, South Australia, April 2004. She quotes Indigo speaking about the trip:

The best part about returning to my birth country was feeling at least physically, like I didn’t stand out. Being in your birth country means that you can stop imagining what the cities and streets looked like for your birth mother and other relatives. By seeing the neighbourhoods they did, from when you were born, you can feel a better connection to them. By observing the locals in your birth country, you can flesh out what kind of people your birth family may be, and who you may have been had you not been adopted. By seeing my birth country, I was better able to build a sense of dignity about where I come from and what my ancestry is (Mathews 2004).

Most of the Vietnamese adoptees spoke of only being able to develop a sense of pride in their racial background after they had returned to their birth country. In this way, the

Vietnamese experiences of returning to their birth country seem to contrast significantly with those of the younger Korean adoptees. Some of the Korean adoptees had been given the opportunity to develop a sense of pride about the Korean part of their hybrid identity in their youth and experience Korean culture (and indeed other cultures) through their travel adventures. The return journeys for many of the Vietnamese adoptees on the other hand, were usually intensely emotional experiences dominated by searching for ‘something’ which may fill in the missing pieces in their lives.

For most, Vietnam had remained a fantasized and unknown ‘other’ place throughout their childhood, adolescence and the early years of their twenties. Exploration of their birth culture usually did not commence until their adult years as part of the preparation for their first return back. The trips are overwhelmingly positioned as returning to one’s

‘roots’, exploring one’s origins. Being able to enjoy “discovering the country itself”, as

Sue’s account suggests, or being able to experience the rich cultural diversity and complex history of the place seems to be inevitably overshadowed by the need to find some personal connection to the place of their birth.

Travelling Back – (Part Two) 118

There is also a certain naivety in some of their expectations, where the lack of information and knowledge about their birth culture or indeed about other Asian countries prior to travelling has contributed to enormous personal struggles to understand the socio-economic and cultural divide that they encounter. Sue’s experiences travelling to a number of Asian countries prior to her trip to Vietnam seemed to have greatly assisted her in this regard. She says “I knew it would be difficult” and her previous travel experiences allowed her to imagine what those

‘difficulties’ might be.

Only one of the two Malaysian adoptees in the study had returned to her birth country during the time we were corresponding. I will consider Naomi’s experiences in the next section. Her motivations and expectations in relation to the return journey mirrored many of the Vietnamese adoptees. Malaysian-Australian adoptee Kate, age 27, expressed an interest in searching for her birthmother but had not returned during the course of our conversations.

The Malaysian Experience

Naomi, age 33 at time we first corresponded, was born in Singapore in 1970. She was adopted at around 4 months old by an English couple while her adoptive father was working in Singapore. Naomi spent her first five years in England and in 1975 came to live in a rural area of Western Australia with her parents and two older non-adopted siblings. Naomi’s father died when she was 16, and just prior to her consenting to be a part of this study, her mother was diagnosed with cancer. Her mother’s illness has contributed to Naomi questioning her adoption and commencing the search for any biological relatives. She says:

I am the only one of 3 children who lives in town so I moved back home to care for (mother) whilst she undergoes treatment…running parallel with these emotions have been some rather fiery and revealing ones re the adoption and the search. For 30 years I refused to do this search out of respect and appreciation for the adoptive parents but in Travelling Back – (Part Two) 119

recent years emotions have been stirring. It was mother’s illness that really made me query and analyse my adoption if you like.

Naomi’s attempts to search for any birth relatives in Singapore proved fruitless and caused her much grief and an ongoing sense of loss. Naomi had suffered significant racial isolation, racism and issues relating to her physical appearance and separation from her adoptive family at boarding school. The complexities of her family life will be discussed in more detail later in the thesis. It is worthwhile to be aware at this stage however, that the lack of information about her birth circumstances and her birth culture throughout her life contributed to the intensity of emotion and trauma surrounding her first trip back to her birth country. For Naomi, like many of the older Vietnamese adoptees, the trip was about searching for some personal connection and a need to fill in some of the missing pieces of her life.

Like Ana, Naomi travelled alone without family or other support but unlike Ana she does not appear to have returned from Singapore with the same “sense of peace” that

Ana and some others experienced. Throughout the searching process Naomi had been in contact with a Chinese family in Singapore who, she thought, may have been her birth family. She says:

The Chinese family I had been communicating with refuse to answer anymore questions which I understand if it is not her (birth mother), and if it is her I understand she has the right to close that door. It seems that I don't have any rights to my history, contact with extended family or siblings. In Singapore I expect to come up against the confidential clause but hope to at least ascertain if the parents are still alive or if they are living together. If the electorate role could tell me if the birth mother's address is the same address of this Chinese family I have been communicating with then I will know for sure I have found the birth mother - the officials are not telling me anything as I am giving the address not them.

Naomi wrote to me after she returned from her trip to Singapore. In relation to her birth family search Naomi says:

The Singapore Government dismissed me due to confidentiality. Though politically incorrect I visited this lady I had been communicating with figuring 1) if it wasn't the birthmother it wasn't going to traumatize her and 2) if it was the birthmother at least she Travelling Back – (Part Two) 120

knew I had tried to make contact several times. At least I knew the son wasn't just saying things and she was no wiser and it also took away the "what if questions". Once she said I was not her daughter then I was gone - it was barely a 2 minute visit.

Naomi stills hopes that she may one day make contact with her birth family. While she was in Singapore she went on a “Chinatown tour” searching for some connection with her birth culture. She says:

A Chinatown tour taught me there were dialects that excelled in different aspects that contributed to where Singapore is today. Two of the dialects which I have a parent from each together excelled in business and money (which I do)…that was the first time I had heard of a possible personality trait that I may have inherited from the parents - a concept I have never had before. Though the family aspect is gone I could gain a connection through the dialect and culture.

Naomi goes on to speak about other more disturbing aspects of her journey:

One of the things that absolutely devastated me Kim was the monsoon drains. (My adoptive mother) always told me that unwanted babies were put in the monsoon drains which in itself is a mortifying thought and I am envisaging the small drains over here. Then I saw the monsoon drains in Singapore and which are 4 lanes wide and are like rivers when it is raining. People told me that (my adoptive mother) saved my life, I see also the (birth) parents did too by seeing there were alternatives and though it is not certain that is where I would have ended up, those drains haunt me. Despite all this I will return to Singapore in years to come perhaps even try and learn Mandarin. When over there the Caucasians did not talk to me presuming I can't speak English and the Chinese expected me to speak Chinese which I can't so if I wasn't the talkative type it could have been very isolating - it is exhausting having to initiate every conversation so the cruise and backpackers were a godsend. I will always be on the outside though.

The feelings of searching for some personal connection to their birth culture seem to be consistent throughout the accounts of most of the older adoptees in the study and indeed in other empirical evidence in Williams’s (2003) and others’ work on older adoptees. Naomi’s account of her return journey however, seems to highlight her

‘outsider’ status both in her birth country and in Australia more poignantly than some others. However, two of the older adoptees’ motivations and expectations in relation to searching, Sue from Vietnam and Mallika from Sri Lanka, seem to differ somewhat from the other older adoptees. To what extent are the differences related to their feelings of belonging to their adopted nation?

Travelling Back – (Part Two) 121

I have proposed in this chapter and the one preceding that the older adoptee accounts appear to be different to the younger adoptee return journeys because some of the younger adoptees have travelled to their birth country, supported by their parents, at a different life stage, an opportunity which was not available to most of the older adoptees until they reached adulthood. There are also other reasons which may explain why the accounts of the older Vietnamese and Malaysian adoptees returning to their birth countries are so different to the younger Korean adoptees, reasons which relate to the historical and socio-political contexts of their childhood, adolescence and adult lives. There seems to be factors at play other than the age that the adoptees returned and their level of maturity. This will be discussed in the following chapter when

I consider the times in which the adoptees have spent their young lives and explore how the social and cultural climate changed as the subsequent decades rolled on.

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CHAPTER SEVEN

Discourses on Adoption and Identity in Adoptee Narratives

Intercountry adoptees have become symbols of contemporary concern about the fragmentation of families, communities and nations. Having been displaced from their original family and country of birth and placed in their ‘new’ racially and biologically different (usually white) family, intercountry adoptees live their lives as visible reminders to themselves, their family and the wider community that they are ‘other’, defined by what they are not. In negotiating their position of otherness, they share significant commonalities with other racially marginalised groups. However, adoptees must also navigate discourses and differences related to their adoptee status.

A number of interconnected discourses impact on intercountry adoptees’ identity construction in two main areas – adoption and race. In the previous chapters on adoptee return journeys to the homeland I explained the broad differences in motivations, expectations and travel experiences between the older and younger adoptees and touched on how some issues about adoption and race impacted on their decisions about ‘travelling back’ and the importance of understanding how particular socio-cultural contexts have affected their young lives. My interest in this chapter and the one following is to provide a broader framework in which to understand their experiences – by discussing how their identity construction is impacted by a range of conflicting and sometimes overlapping discourses, for example, adoption discourses about belonging to family and to nation, issues of ‘secrecy’ and ‘openness’ in adoption practices, and racial discourses present in policies of assimilation and multiculturalism. Discourses on Adoption and Identity in Adoptee Narratives 123

Identity and Adoption

In Chapter Four I discussed other ways of thinking about ‘identity’ in relation to adoptees other than as identity ‘in crisis’. The poststructuralist position on the construction of identity associated with the work of Foucault, Derrida and Lacan, disrupted notions that a person’s identity can ever be ‘complete’ or indeed be understood in terms of some essence of being that defines us for all time. Stuart Hall’s work on cultural identity continues to remind us of the complex, fluid and changing nature of identity construction. He says:

Cultural identity…belongs to the future as much as to the past. It is not something which already exists, transcending place, time, history and culture. Cultural identities come from somewhere, have histories. But, like everything which is historical, they undergo constant transformation. Far from being eternally fixed in some essentialised past, they are subject to the continuous ‘play’ of history, culture and power (Hall 1990:225).

Hall, as previously suggested, is interested in ways of “becoming” as well as “being”, that is, he believes in identity construction as a transformative process where individuals, mindful of the past, can play an active, ongoing role in determining their own future direction, albeit within particular cultural and political constraints. There is, as Ien Ang (2000) suggests, “something distinctly idealistic, if not utopian, in the statement that identities are a matter of becoming rather than being” (Ang 2000:1), but

Hall’s insights do offer glimpses of optimism in a world seemingly obsessed by absolutes and essences, a way to escape the fear and uncertainty of what Bauman

(1997) describes as, “the new world disorder” (Bauman 1997:51).

Optimism is not a concept frequently seen in contemporary adoption discourse about adoptees’ lives. Rather than discussions about ‘who we will become’, we hear stories about adoptees searching for ‘who we really are’ shrouded in essentialist notions of a mythologised past. This is not because stories of strength, resilience and the transformative nature of adoptee identities are not present in adoptee narratives. They Discourses on Adoption and Identity in Adoptee Narratives 124

are - but they don’t make good press. Media portrayals of adoptees frequently represent wider society’s views on the ‘naturalness’ of genetic parenthood 15 , and imply that adoptees need to search for their ‘true’, ‘authentic’, ‘original’ self as the only way they will ever feel ‘complete’. Such portrayals also symbolise contemporary preoccupation with claiming a singular, essential identity, the idea that your ‘blood’ connection is your ‘real’ identity.

Adoption stories also open up questions about kinship, about who belongs with whom and the State’s role in determining such things as a person’s ability to parent (whether through birth or through adoption) and what is in a child’s best interests. Adoption stories raise questions about the various ways adoptive families have been managed through the implementation of particular social policies at particular historical moments.

As I mentioned in Chapter Four, while poststructuralism and ideas about multiple and shifting identities have significantly influenced various areas in the human sciences, such ideas have “not so far penetrated very far into the theoretical discourse of social work” (Cohen 1994:45). Phil Cohen’s thoughts on the dominant paradigm in adoption policy in the British context seems also to hold particular relevance in the Australian context. I wish to explore the assumptions and meanings attached to ’adoptee identity’, how this has changed in the last decades of the twentieth century and extent to which the situation of the adoptee has been pathologised, promoting a kind of victimisation discourse.

At this point I should mention that it is not my intention to provide a comprehensive historical overview of adoption policy and practices in Australia or in other Western

15 See David Schneider’s (1968) well known study on American kinship which he sees as primarily concerned with “the blood relationship, the fact of shared biogenetic substance. Kinship is the mother’s bond of flesh and blood with her child, and her maternal instinct is her love for it. This is nature, these are natural things; these are the ways of nature. To be otherwise is unnatural, artificial, contrary to nature” (Schneider 1968:107). Discourses on Adoption and Identity in Adoptee Narratives 125

nations. I will however provide a brief outline of some of the changes in policy as a way to place discourses on adoption within particular historical frameworks. For a more thorough investigation of particular adoption policies see for example Peter Boss

(1992) and Audrey Marshall and Margaret McDonald (2001) in the Australian context,

Judith Modell’s (2002) work on the culture of policies and practices of adoption in the

United States, Haimes and Timms’s (1985) analysis of British adoption legislation and

Gaber and Aldridge’s (1994) compilation of British and American writers’ interpretations of transracial adoption policy and its implementation (Boss 1992; Gaber 1994a; Haimes

1985; Marshall 2001; Modell 2002).

My interest here lies simply in understanding discourses on adoption, identity and race by an analysis of the social and cultural practices of adoption in Australia and how they have changed during the twentieth century, particularly since the first intercountry adoptees arrived. Australia’s intercountry adoption policy has been significantly influenced by past practices in local adoption – issues related to secrecy and openness in accessing birth and adoption records and the importance of making/or not making contact or renewing relationships with birth families to an adoptee’s identity construction.

Imagining Families – The Changing Discourses of Adoption

The first formal adoption legislation in Australia was introduced in Western Australia in

1896 at a time when the state was experiencing the discovery of gold. Children were seen as ‘useful’ and “became a potential source of family income” because of a shortage of labour (Marshall 2001:19). The idea of children as a source of labour was also evident in the now disreputable child migrant scheme where children were ‘farmed out’ as ‘apprentices’ and domestic servants on farms in the colonies of Canada, South

Africa and Australia from the 1880s to the 1950s (Cohen 1994). Phil Cohen suggests that a number of intertwining discourses and practices were evident in the period up to Discourses on Adoption and Identity in Adoptee Narratives 126

World War Two, relating to religious/philanthropic concerns as well as “strategies for policing the ‘dangerous classes’ based on eugenic principles” (Cohen 1994:52).

Other Australian states did not introduce adoption legislation until some time after

Western Australia. It was introduced in Tasmania in 1920, Victoria in 1928 and followed in other states to ensure that “the welfare and interests of the child would be promoted by the adoption” and “the adoptive parent would be deemed in law to be the parent of the adopted child as if such child had been born to such adoptive parent in lawful wedlock” (Boss 1992:4). The legislation was considered necessary as a way to confer legitimacy on children who were born to unmarried mothers, illegitimacy being viewed at this time, as “a stigma, a token of moral decay, which struck at the very roots of the social order” (Boss 1992:4-5). The legislation was also seen as a way of protecting the interests of adoptive parents. Tom Frame, who was adopted locally in the 1960s, notes that it was not until the Children Equality Status Act was passed in 1976 that the formal status of illegitimate children as filius nullius (taken from English law meaning the children of no-one) was removed, although the stigma of illegitimacy remained with the adopted child and the birth parent long after the legal distinctions had disappeared

(Frame 1999:53-54).

Peter Boss describes the period from 1896 -1964 as the ‘early legislative period’, a time when the system of secrecy in adoption practices in Australia appears to have also developed. Prior to this time, adoption was not a secret practice but was mostly concerned with the practice of ‘de-facto’ adoption (adoption of children without legal protection), which had developed out of the ‘boarding out’ (known today as ‘’) system in the United Kingdom. Children had no legal protection and the family did not have legal custody of the child. Boss refers to Charlesworth et al (1990) and suggests the period from the 1890s “was very much the era of the adoption of children of unmarried mothers, which is a major reason why so many medical doctors and Discourses on Adoption and Identity in Adoptee Narratives 127

clergyman were involved in the private and independent placement of children for adoption” (Boss 1992:4).

Unlike customary adoption which depended on processes of negotiation within informal social networks, the introduction of adoption legislation involved a State regulated contract “which severed absolutely the links between the two families and kept the facts of its early life secret from the child by placing all documentation in a sealed record” (Cohen 1994:53). Judith Modell suggests that the secrecy in adoption practices

“came to seem natural to all but the most involved observers…once legalised, the transfer of parenthood was no longer visible…(and) the adoptive family was ‘just like’ the family created out of intercourse, pregnancy and birth” (Modell 2002:4). Matching a child to a family by physical characteristics or temperament, in other words, the promotion of sameness between parent and child, was considered the best way to create an absolute bond, a way of denying the differences within families caused by the lack of a blood relationship. As Modell suggests, the idea of ‘matching’ does highlight a fundamental unease about the reallocation of parental rights to the child. It also highlights how the preoccupation with blood ties in adoption practices is a cultural construct, historically situated and particularly predominant in Western societies

(although not exclusively) 16 , promoting an understanding of identity and kinship which significantly contrasts with some other societies, for example, some Oceanic cultures. 17

16 In South Korea, for example, confucianist beliefs about the importance of patrilineal blood lines have ensured adoption of children within Korea remains a stigmatised and secret practice. There was no formal legal practice for adopting orphaned and abandoned children prior to the 1950s – these children were traditionally the responsibility of the paternal extended family. Following the Korean War, orphans and multiracial children fathered by US soldiers, who were viewed as outcasts in Korean society, precipitated government ( and US citizen Harry Holt, founder of Holt Adoption Agency) to establish intercountry adoption programmes .(Sarri 1998, Kim 2003). 17 Refer to anthropological studies of kinship and adoption in Micronesian and Polynesian societies, for example see (Carroll 1970, Levy 1970, Brady 1976) as well as (Edholm 1982) and more recently Bowie’s 2004 edited collection of anthropological writings on kinship and adoption practices in Africa, Oceania, Asia and South and Central America (Bowie 2004). These studies show how social practices of adoption reflect different notions of kinship and motherhood which do not naturalise the blood relationship or see identity as dependent on blood ties. Rather, as Modell suggests, “identity is thought to evolve in a supportive environment (and) adoption is considered no more risky than any other way of bringing up a child” (Modell 2002:187). Discourses on Adoption and Identity in Adoptee Narratives 128

‘Matching’ children with appropriate adoptive parents in order to ‘complete’ their family is also evident in the current practices of some sending countries. 18

However, around the time of World War Two other discourses about child development and the role of the family were becoming evident. John Bowlby and others’ research on maternal deprivation during the war years led to new attachment theories – an infant could become emotionally attached to someone other than its birth mother if “this happened early enough and in a favourable enough environment” (Cohen 1994:55).

Nurture was considered to be more important than nature in a child’s development. As a result of these new theories, a shift in policy occurred, a movement away from institutional care and towards long-term fostering and adoption. Cohen sees “the magical power of bonding” and motherhood was also linked to changing ideologies of the nation and family life in the movement to rebuild the post-war nation. The family was now “invested with a new, specifically therapeutic function” and “became its own imagined community” (Cohen 1994:55).

Whereas earlier adoption practices were centred on religious and moral concerns, this period saw a shift towards psychological and therapeutic models of parenting. Adoptive parents were selected and ‘matched’ to children on the basis of their emotional and psychological make-up although old models of religious and moralistic criteria remained in the privileging of the traditional family unit over the non- traditional unit, for example, single parents and homosexual couples (Cohen 1994). It is worth noting therefore, the range of discourses evident in child welfare practice. It would seem however, that the emphasis on the importance of emotional bonding rather than matching by physical characteristics, may well have paved the way for prospective

18 As an example, a newspaper article describes Chinese authorities in the Chinese Centre of Adoption Affairs, “commonly known as the matching room”, comparing photographs of Westerners to Chinese babies for the purpose of ‘matching’ them to parents who in some way physically resemble them (McDonald 2005:31). Recent adoptive parents’ discussion on Australia-Adopt-Korea listserv included talk of inquires some parents have made to social workers at Eastern Social Welfare Society in Korea to determine how their child/children were ‘matched’ with them. Discourses on Adoption and Identity in Adoptee Narratives 129

white adoptive parents to (re)imagine their family unit at a time when there was a dearth of white babies available for adoption. As Cohen (1994) suggests,“…once the family was reinvented as its own imagined community it seemed possible for everyone to build a harmonious multiracial society in their own backyard” (Cohen 1994:57).

The discourse which promoted the idea of the ‘clean break’ in adoption practices, where it was accepted that the child’s interests were best served by being assimilated into their ‘new’ family, was obviously much less problematic in same-race adoptions than in transracial adoptions. By the time intercountry adoption emerged on the scene in Australia in the 1970s, the assumption that best practice involved keeping birth information secret was under significant scrutiny by older local adoptees and birth mothers who became part of the social movement on the ‘right to know’. Issues about personal identity had emerged with the period of enormous social change commencing in the 1960s where feminist themes of ‘our bodies, ourselves’ and ‘the personal is political’ influenced issues about birth control, sex education and abortion offering women much greater reproductive, social and economic choices. Changes in social and professional attitudes to single parenthood also significantly reduced the stigma associated with illegitimacy. The election of the Whitlam Labor government in 1972, after decades of conservative welfare policy, saw significant changes in welfare measures for disadvantaged groups, including single mothers who were now provided with some financial support as well as given parenting choices other than adoption.

By the mid 1970s in the United States adoptee support groups and a national birthparent group, the Concerned United Birthparents (CUB) were formed rallying around issues of secrecy and shame associated with the adoption practices of the

1940s and 50s (Modell 2002). In Australia similar changes were occurring - in 1976 the New South Wales (NSW) Department of Youth and Community Services established an Adopted Persons Contact Register which allowed people separated by Discourses on Adoption and Identity in Adoptee Narratives 130

adoption to be reunited provided both parties wanted to make contact. In 1979, a community organisation, Adoption Triangle was formed particularly advocating for the rights of adoptees and birthparents. Adoption Triangle called for an end to “total secrecy in adoption and permanently sealed records (which) can only perpetuate misunderstanding and prejudice based on ignorance” and advocated that “the adoption process must become a more open process, responding and catering for the needs of all parties involved” (Frame 1999:57).

The issues related to defining the self, which were very much a part of the 1960s and

70s social movements, redefined the meaning of adoptive identity. It had become, as

Cohen (1994) states:

…a genealogical model, a model of identity as a birthright or inheritance. To inhabit such an identity was to possess an authentic sense of selfhood. To lack such an identity was to lack a core personality – to be deprived of a meaningful sense of roots. The family of origin had now to be included within the imagined community of kith and kin and the search for origins itself made an integral part of adoption as a therapeutic enterprise (Cohen 1994:58-59).

The system of secrecy became the antithesis of what it meant to ‘possess an authentic sense of selfhood’. Influenced by the wider social movements’ emphasis on personal identity, the ‘right to know’ movement created its own form of identity politics influencing adoption dialogue and contributing to significant changes in policy in the decades to follow. Self-help books based on popular psychology spoke to a generation of adoptees who expressed pain and anxiety caused by the practices of secrecy, attributing their discomfort and shame to the institution of adoption itself. In the USA in

1975, an adoptee, Betty Jean Lifton, published her first book on the adoption experience, Twice Born - Memoirs of an Adopted Daughter describing her quest for birthparents and suggesting that the adoptee “ is ‘fragmented’ as long as she or he lacks a link with biological kin” (Modell 2002:28).

Discourses on Adoption and Identity in Adoptee Narratives 131

Lifton’s books on adoptive identity were to have a major impact on the way adoptive identity has been perceived in recent decades, promoting the idea that an integrated, strong identity is dependent on a connection with biological ancestory - that “identity is associated with a root or ground of belonging that is inside the child…and unchanging” and “also outside the child in the sense that it is assumed to tie her to others whom she is like (as defined by skin color, hair texture, facial features and so forth)” (Yngvesson

2003:7).Lifton (1994:68) suggests that “alienation from this source of likeness produces

‘genealogical bewilderment’ and a psychological need for the adopted child to return to where she really belongs” (Yngvesson 2003:7); see (Lifton 1977; Lifton 1981; Lifton

1994). However, discussion in the previous two chapters on motivations and expectations in relation to searching expose the fragility of the suggestion that all adoptees by nature of their adopted status will inevitably wish to return to where they

‘really’ belong or that they necessarily frame their return journeys in terms of a ‘quest for identity’. Essentialising the ‘adoptee condition’ in this way disregards complexities in identity construction contingent on numerous contexts related to time, place and adoptees’ varying abilities to negotiate issues of identity and difference.

However, Lifton is not alone in pathologising the adoptee. Others have also drawn on the broader societal discourse and the symbolism of ‘roots’ to reduce adoption discussions to quests for ‘identity’ – equating identity to biological ancestry. The bestselling book, The Primal Wound: legacy of the adopted child (1991), by Nancy

Verrier, an American clinical psychologist, highlighted the importance of the blood connection and the ‘primal connectedness’ associated with the bond between mother and child. Verrier’s views about the ‘primal wound’ caused by separation, which she believed resulted in certain behaviours specific to adoptees, would significantly influence the thinking and policy making in relation to adoption in Australia. Verrier was the keynote speaker at the international adoption conference, hosted by the

Benevolent Society of New South Wales held in Sydney in August 1994. Tom Frame, Discourses on Adoption and Identity in Adoptee Narratives 132

an Australian born adoptee who attended the conference says, “as expected, several speakers argued that surrendering an infant for adoption was a manifestly heartless act which, it strongly suspected, seriously disadvantaged the relinquished child in later life”.

He goes on to suggest that “the most fulsome description of the damage done to adoptees was the ‘primal wound’ theory advanced by Nancy Verrier” (Frame

1999:100).

Marshall and McDonald also point to the prominence of Verrier’s theory in Australia and suggest that:

Her apparently global application of the concept carries with it the stigmatising implication that all adoptees are to a greater or lesser degree walking wounded. Her insistence on the permanent nature of this primal wound has worrying overtones of predestination or self-fulfilling prophecy given the great multiplicity of factors which may impact on the happiness or otherwise of the adopted child and his or her family. (Marshall 2001:217).

The Post Adoption Resource Centre (PARC), a service of The Benevolent Society based in Sydney, was set up in 1991 and received government funding following the implementation of the NSW Adoption Information Act (1990). The Act gave rights to information and contact to adoptees and birth relatives. PARC have mostly provided support on search and reunion issues for Australian born adoptees of Anglo-Celtic backgrounds but gradually started to receive requests from transracial and intercountry adoptees for assistance. The PARC project, Colour of Difference , an anthology which includes contributions from both Australian and overseas born transracial adoptees was published in 2001. Both Verrier’s and Lifton’s works are listed in the short reading list at the back of the book. In addition, PARC in conjunction with the Department of

Community Services, Anglicare and Barnardos organised Nancy Verrier to come to

Australia in August 2005 for a series of seminars for adoption professionals and the broader adoption community (see ICASN July 2005 newsletter, www.icasn.org).

Discourses on Adoption and Identity in Adoptee Narratives 133

Some of the adoptees in this study spoke of their involvement with PARC and the

Colour of Difference project - their ideas in relation to post-adoption support on secrecy and search issues need to be analysed within particular cultural and historical contexts.

Ideas expressed by Nancy Verrier also appeared in some of their accounts, particularly in the older group who framed their searching experiences in terms of finding out who they ‘really’ are. However, there were others, particularly in the younger adoptee group who were quite critical of a biologically determinist view of identity construction, reacting strongly against the idea that their life experiences could be reduced to a single essential identity as an ‘adoptee’. How can the similarities and differences in their accounts be explained? Are the differences between the older and younger groups’ life experiences related to issues about being adopted? I will attempt to address these questions in the following section.

Intercountry Adoptee Experiences of ‘Being Adopted’ – The ‘Older’ Group

The experiences of the older intercountry adoptees in relation to earlier discourses of secrecy were obviously significantly different to locally ‘matched’ adoptees who did not have the additional complexities associated with racial difference to endure. Modell reports the themes which were commonly reported at adoptee consciousness-raising groups in the 1980s (in which very few members were non-white) included discussion about the moment they actually learned they were adopted and the silences about adoptive issues that adoptive parents imposed (Modell 2002:33). While the fact of the child’s local adoption may or may not have been kept secret from the child until a particular age, the secret could easily be kept from the broader community. In the case of intercountry adoptees, their adoptive status is visible for all to see. For intercountry adoptees issues of belonging go beyond feeling they ‘fit’ in their adoptive family unit to broader concerns about belonging to particular communities and nations.

Discourses on Adoption and Identity in Adoptee Narratives 134

In the decade of the 1970s when the first substantial number of intercountry adoptees arrived in Australia from Vietnam, the practices of secrecy operated in different ways.

None of the adoptees in the older group had any specific information about their early lives prior to being adopted. As highlighted in the previous chapter, Vietnamese babies in the chaos of war were airlifted without (or sometimes with incorrect) identifying information and no record of their life prior to the airlift. The two Malaysian adoptees and two older Sri Lankan adoptees in this study also had very little information about their birth circumstances. In addition, most of the older adoptees had little opportunity to speak about their adoption in their youth and adolescence. While the lack of openness in adoption discussions could be seen as consistent with the social attitudes and expectations of the time, for some adoptees lack of open communication about adoption issues was indicative of the lack of openness about other issues associated with their early years.

Naomi, a Malaysian-Australian adoptee, for example spoke about the lack of open communication between herself and her mother in general. She says, “ When I was younger she (mother) would correct my opinions which were normally misinformed but after a while I didn't bother expressing them ”. Similarly, Sam, a Vietnamese-Australian adoptee, spoke about her relationship with her adoptive parents who were devout

Christians - her mother was a Sunday School teacher and father a Minister in the church and Sam attended a Christian girls college. Sam’s parents’ marriage was not a happy one and they separated when Sam was an adolescent. She says her parents tended to “sweep things under the carpet ” and when she wanted to talk about issues

“there was always hush, hush, we don’t talk about these things ”.

Verrier’s ideas in The Primal Wound appear to resonate most with those older adoptees who were given no/limited opportunity to speak openly about adoption in their youth and who have also experienced multiple layers of difference. Naomi expressed Discourses on Adoption and Identity in Adoptee Narratives 135

how The Primal Wound helped her to understand better her feelings about her adoption which had only surfaced when she was in early thirties and was faced with her adoptive mother’s illness and the realisation that she may lose her. She says:

Last year I read my first book on adoption called the "Primal Wound" of which parts of it made me hurl the book across the room until over time I came round to what it was saying. It was several weeks before I could resume reading it with an open mind. I now see it was the adoption factors I didn't like. Though I don't remember nor do I wish to know what the next phase is. I will be relieved to get to the end of the line, the faster the better.

Naomi’s response to Primal Wound seems to suggest her acceptance that being adopted means a certain inevitability about the “ adoption factors ” that all adoptees must experience in order “ to get to the end of the line ”. It suggests that she feels a sense of powerlessness and an inability to negotiate the person she will become.

However, Naomi’s sense of powerlessness needs to be understood within the context of her early life. She was born in Singapore in 1970 and was adopted by an English family at age 3-4 months. Naomi spent her first five years in England before coming

(with her adoptive family) to live in Australia in 1975. The family lived in rural Australia for six years of Naomi’s childhood where she says:

…there were 60 Whites, 500 Aborigines and myself as the only Asian. I went to an Aboriginal school at primary age which at times racism was rife as when I wasn't getting teased for being Chinese it was because I talked funny (got a lisp) or because of the flat nose (which now I see as hypocritical). In high school it was correspondence until 1985 when I went to a girl’s boarding school in Perth like other White children.

The complexity of Naomi’s life can be seen in the layers of difference she has experienced - her adoptee status needs to be understood alongside issues of racial difference, having a cleft palate, a lisp, feeling isolated from her family during her school years at boarding school and the impact of her father’s death on her as an adolescent.

Naomi’s experience of first reading about adoption issues in recent years, as a mature adult is also the experience of many of the adoptees in the older group. Ana spoke Discourses on Adoption and Identity in Adoptee Narratives 136

about her experiences of speaking publicly about the way adoption has affected her life and regrets never having the opportunity to discuss such things with her family. She says:

Yesterday I had a momentous experience. I stood in front of 100 people and bared my adopted soul to them. I told them my inner most thoughts and emotions; I spoke to them honestly and openly about the experiences and issues I see as being directly related to my adoption.

I've never admitted, let alone discussed any of what I announced yesterday. I've never openly explored the issues, which I detailed over that microphone, with anyone close to me. And today I feel really sad and angry and guilty. I feel guilty because I hadn't explored these things with my family or other loved ones before I did so with a room full of strangers. I feel sad because none of the important people in my life were there to witness or share in my milestone. And I'm angry because I can't re-enact or explain what happened yesterday and therefore, those treasured people can never truly know what I did, what I went through or how amazing it was for me (Ana – Vietnamese-Australian adoptee).

Ana describes her parents as being “ open and receptive ” to discussions about adoption but that growing up she never “ felt the need or desire to do so ”. Ana suggested that her

“overwhelming sense of gratitude ” to her parents “ for giving me the life I have ” as well as “ an ingrained fear of abandonment ” possibly prevented her talking about anything that she felt might upset her parents. Ana frames her understanding of her early life much as Naomi does – that is, she appears to attribute all her life experiences to the fact of her abandonment and her adoptee status. Like Naomi’s account, Ana appears to feel a lack of control about the inevitability of the various stages of the ‘adoptee condition’.

The establishment of adoptee support organisations such as the Post Adoption

Research Centre (PARC) in the 1990s marked a significant change for older adoptees who had usually spent their youth, adolescence and early adulthood without recognition from family and the broader community about the challenges they faced.

For example, Ana spoke about how the Colour of Difference project changed her self perception: Discourses on Adoption and Identity in Adoptee Narratives 137

The widespread response to the book has been the most amazing source of validation for me. Meeting other people and reading the life experiences of others in a similar situation has also made me realise that what I've felt, how I've behaved and the way I think is not uncommon to people who are transracially adopted.

Without the growth that has resulted from my involvement in The Colour of Difference project I would never have reached the headspace I find myself in. I am now proud to be adopted and even prouder to be able to recognise the effects it has had on me (Ana – Vietnamese-Australian adoptee – Age 29).

Ana, Indi, My Dung and some others involved in the Colour of Difference project have found much support and a sense of belonging previously beyond their reach in the relationships formed with other intercountry adoptees in adulthood. Other older adoptees, however, have found support in adulthood through identification with other social groups. Vietnamese adoptee Sam, for example, faced many challenges in her youth and adolescence, many of which she believed could not be attributed to ‘being adopted’.

The complexities of Sam’s story are similar to Naomi’s – Sam experienced multiple levels of difference with a lack of appropriate support in youth and adolescence. Sam, age 28, was born in Vietnam before the end of the war, found on an orphanage’s steps and lived at the orphanage until age16 months before being adopted by an Australian family who had two older non-adopted sons. Sam spoke about being severely traumatised when she came to Australia from her time spent in the orphanage and believed that she had been burnt during her time there. On arrival in Australia Sam would not allow anyone to touch her, particularly women and described being “ terrified of ”. As described previously she did not have a close relationship with her adoptive parents.

From the age of 14 Sam lived on and off the streets and became entangled in the drug scene. She spoke about the problems she faced in her adolescent years in the 1980s:

At the age of 13, there were a lot of problems I had to deal with emotionally. Some of the problems I had to face were Racism, Peer pressure, Puberty and my Sexuality, My Discourses on Adoption and Identity in Adoptee Narratives 138

adoption and the fact that I was different to my Australian family. I hated school, I hated my life and I had low self-esteem. I truly felt that there was no-one that I could talk to who would understand me and where I was coming from. I trusted no adults or authority figures. I didn't know how to ask for help and more often than not my pride and stubbornness got in the way, so I wrote down all my thoughts and feelings in the form of poetry, which I believe, helped prevent me from going insane even though it took years before I felt safe enough to share them with adults.

In the early 1990s Sam received support and friendship and publicly spoke at a Drug and Alcohol clinic about her situation. She also began tentatively to explore her

Vietnamese background and attended a camp for Vietnamese university students. At the camp she says that “I was a bit of a celebrity but I didn’t accept their ways…I didn’t like their value system, (things like) honour your parents…I could not adopt that culture as my own”.

Sam contacted PARC when she moved to Sydney and thought that “finally someone who will understand me…but I realised that everyone is on their own journey”. Sam went on to speak about her feelings about organisations such as PARC. She says, “we are all adopted…we have our rights (but) I was not recognised for who I am but just as an ‘adoptee’...the person gets lost in that focus...”

Sam was also interviewed for a Special Broadcasting Service (SBS) documentary where she met other adoptees. She spoke about how some of the other adoptees seemed to focus on her adoption path and how to feel better about her past which she found quite intrusive. She mentioned that some adoptees “ were quite patronising ” and couldn’t understand her approach to her situation. She says:

I lived on the streets by choice…adoption was just a small part of my life...it wasn't because of my adoption that this has happened to me…some blamed their adoption for the way their life has gone…lots of adoptees blame their adoption for the way their life has gone...I guess I could go through my life and do that but I know its not right…I would like to have a family one day even it if means by adoption.

Sam resists being defined by her adoptive status and does not appear to identify readily with other older adoptees. Rather, as an adult living in a social and cultural Discourses on Adoption and Identity in Adoptee Narratives 139

environment which is more accepting of difference, Sam has found support from other friendships networks and through other creative pursuits. Her attitude in relation to her adoptive status shows a resistance to essentialist categories about adoption imposed by others and suggests other possibilities and positionings which are now open to displaced others but which were not available in their early lives. In other words, the majority of older adoptees are now benefiting significantly from the new era of openness which is not restricted to issues of adoption. For many, however, this means being considerably influenced by the discourse of searching and exploration of ‘roots’, but for others like Sam it means now having the opportunity to define herself outside being ‘an adoptee’.

While I have argued that most of the older group of adoptees were considerably disadvantaged in their youth and adolescence by the lack of openness in relation to their adoption, and by having little or no information about their birth circumstances or birth country, they were also faced with other complexities in their lives – some experienced the loss of an adoptive parent through death or divorce, others were faced with particular physical disabilities and most suffered racial isolation and significant racism.

Issues of racial difference and racism loom large in the narratives of intercountry adoptees, particularly in the older group. Their accounts need to be analysed within the cultural and historical contexts of Australia’s immigration policies, by considering how the discourses of assimilation and the changing nature of multiculturalism have impacted their lives. I will address the various discourses of race in the following chapter and consider the differences in the way the older and younger group of adoptees have experienced being ‘othered’ commencing with Said’s ideas on the

Western discourse of Orientalism.

Discourses on Adoption and Identity in Adoptee Narratives 140

At this point, however, in the context of the discussion about the older adoptees’ attitudes to ‘being adopted’, it is worth pointing out that two of the older adoptees experiences appear to stand in direct contrast to the other nine accounts. I mentioned in the previous chapter how the narratives of Mallika from Sri Lanka and Sue from

Vietnam differed somewhat from the other older adoptees in relation to their motivations and expectations in relation to searching. Their accounts also differed from the other adoptees’ in relation to support networks available to them in their youth as well as in their attitudes and exposure to cultural diversity. Their narratives provide significant clues to understanding how feelings and attitudes about ‘being adopted’ are intricately linked with experiences in relation to racial difference.

Unlike most of the older adoptees, Mallika did not experience her early life in terms of loss or as a lack of appropriate support. She sees her life as a series of choices and opportunities and has strong opinions on adoption and race issues. She says:

Nobody can tell me I missed out on anything simply because the woman who carried me for 9 months stopped being a mother to me when I was less than 5 months old. Nobody will convince me that my life is not rich and satisfying because the culture I left behind when I was adopted has not featured in my life since that time. Besides, I would hardly call Sri Lankan culture a Catholic orphanage that was then run by white nuns.

I will not waste my precious time with my adoptive parents mourning for my birth mother. I have better things to do and I will argue until I'm blue (can I go blue??) in the face with anybody who says that adoption is wrong or creates gaps in a persons life. I respect the choice she made to give me up by getting on with the life she wanted me to have.

What is wrong or causes gaps is when an adopted child is not given the freedom to express themselves and make a choice as to what their culture will be for them, or to have access to information about their country of origin. I chose to reject my country of origin because it was too foreign to me, but this was my choice and everything was laid out for me to make my decision on. My parents definitely tried to make as much available as possible, and I think that is the best a parent can do. I feel adoptive parents need to factor into their family budget the possibility of travelling back to the child's country of origin so they can experience the world and know where they are from (Mallika – Sri- Lankan-Australian – Age 26).

Similarly, Sue’s parents provided adoption information (albeit limited) during her primary school years. She says: Discourses on Adoption and Identity in Adoptee Narratives 141

The onset of the first literature, though very rare, on adoption started coming in...continuing the open forum on my adoption between me and my parents. Simple books, which made me easily understand that I was not alone is this adoption situation.

Like Mallika, Sue’s family embraced the opportunities available to them to experience cultural diversity through travel, work and social engagements. Sue explains:

Mum and Dad have travelled the world so our house was unusually multicultural in the music, ornaments, food, activities, religion. Vietnamese culture was by no means thrown at me, in fact we never really did much at all Vietnamese. Though in hindsight it is probably just as well as it may have ended up feeling like a bit of a token effort, or a burden that my presence in the family was brought into it. The easy going acceptance of all cultures in a sincere and searching way was far more important I believe in giving me the tools to explore my own cultural roots in my own personal time in different ways as I grew up, not family pressured time.

The family friends that were made by my parents through work and local groups were very diverse in their cultural background. Malaysian, Ukrainian, Dutch. My mother’s career headed into teaching adult migrants and so our house was often filled with people of many cultures. Even though this occurred my parents did not push me to belong to them in anyway, they in turn did not try to "take me on" in a cultural sense of teaching me things, even the Vietnamese migrants. In the suburb, and reflected at primary school, there was always a variety of cultures present (Sue – Vietnamese-Australian adoptee – Age 29).

What separates Mallika’s and Sue’s accounts from most others in the older group?

Their experiences highlight the importance of appropriate access to information, resources and support necessary to face the significant challenges in identity construction. Their accounts also expose the advantages of class privilege and educational opportunities which allowed greater freedom actively to resist imposed racial and other categories. Differences in adoptee experiences in relation to the interplay of class issues with racial difference will be explored further in a chapter to follow when adoptee coping strategies and negotiations of difference will be discussed.

The experiences of Kate, a Malaysian-Australian adoptee, age 27, concurs with

Mallika’s and Sue’s accounts about the importance of access to other ways of being and belonging which enables issues of racial difference to be successfully negotiated.

Kate describes her adoption as ‘open’ but was more concerned with the issues of racial isolation that she experienced: Discourses on Adoption and Identity in Adoptee Narratives 142

I have a fantastic adopted family and I feel lucky because of that. My relationship with my adopted family is the same as if I was their own biological daughter. They have been very open with me about my adoption. Growing up I didn't mix with people of my own culture and because of that I have missed out on learning about it. I think it's important for adoptees to learn as much as they can about their own culture and mix with others of the same culture. So they have a sense of their own identity and learn to like who they are.

Kate’s situation suggests that for some adoptees the status of ‘being adopted’ is perhaps less important than lack of information and access to her birth culture and people of her racial background. However issues of adoption and race are not easily separated. Meier (1998) in his study of Korean-American intercountry adoptees asked his participants the question of whether ‘being adopted’ or ‘being Korean’ “felt more significant in their life” (Meier 1998). He says that “overwhelmingly, they responded that being Korean felt more significant”. Meier related this response to a number of issues, one being that the way you look: your racial make-up is always visible to yourself and the wider community. Other responses related to place – the Korean adoptees living in

Minnesota grew up in a place where international adoption was very common although cultural diversity was not. In this social and historical context, adoption became less an issue than racial difference.

In my study, how the participants felt about being adopted seemed particularly connected to how they had experienced being racially different. It is important to note however, that issues of adoption and race became more and less important depending on a variety of contexts and circumstances intricately linked with family relationships, friendship networks and perhaps more importantly the resources and opportunities available at different stages of their lives. For most adoptees in the older group their childhood and adolescence was spent trying to be ‘the same’ as the rest of their family and community 19 . Access to literature about adoption issues or information about

19 This is consistent with Williams’ (2003) study on Vietnamese adoptees who grew up in culturally homogenous environments and described “themselves as being the ‘same’ as their adoptive parents”. Williams suggests that the term ‘same’ is “commonly used by participants to describe ‘whiteness’”, normalising the racial identity of their white parents (Williams 2003:69). Discourses on Adoption and Identity in Adoptee Narratives 143

appreciation of ‘difference’ in all its forms was not readily available. Adoptive parents were advised to raise their adoptive children ‘just like’ they would raise a biological child and were either unaware or chose to downplay or deny the impact being racially different from other family members and from those in the majority culture might have on the child.

However, the search and reunion movement which gained momentum in Australia in the 1990s provided the opportunity for the older intercountry adoptees, now in their twenties, to begin to explore how their adoptee status had impacted their lives, to openly question their life experiences in relation to being adopted and to benefit from the resources and other opportunities now available to them. Adoption discourse has changed significantly for the older group during their lives. The younger group, by contrast, although they arrived in Australia just a decade or so later have grown up in an era where social and official discourse about displaced others suggests that questioning one’s identity is almost mandatory – to be adopted or to be racially different requires vigilance to ensure a ‘crisis of identity’ can be avoided.

The ‘Younger’ Group

Most of the adoptees in the younger group have spent their childhood and adolescence in an era of openness where public and private talk about families, parenting styles, management of children and differences in family structure is common. However, talk about adoptive families in the public forum is usually restricted to stories about intercountry adoptees desperately searching for their ‘real’ family and subsequent emotional reunions with birth families or ‘desperate’ infertile couples who wish to adopt a child after years suffering infertility. All players in the adoption triangle are usually portrayed as victims – birth parents and the children they relinquish are said to suffer from the loss of their primal connection, and adoptive parents are believed to be suffering from the loss of the dream child of procreation (Bartholet 1993). Discourses on Adoption and Identity in Adoptee Narratives 144

Modell (2002) suggests that in the United States context there is an “increasing openness of talk about adoption in general – not just among scholars, but also among parents, children, kin and non-kin to adoptive families”. She goes on to say that

“adoption has entered the public domain not only from the point of view of family, but also from the point of view of “rescue”. Once connected with subjects like marriage, infertility, and family size, adoption now appears in the news in the guise of providing a safe place for endangered children” (Modell 2002:17-18).

By contrast, adoption ‘talk’ in contemporary Australia does not usually appear as

‘rescue’ (except perhaps in some popular media), or as ‘providing a safe place for endangered children’. Rather, one rarely hears about adoption, particularly local adoption as a form of family at all in the contemporary context. Availability of local children for adoption continues to decline yearly 20 . This is not to say that the discourse of rescuing children is not a part of Australia’s history. On the contrary, the unpalatable nature of the discourse of rescue to many older adoptees (and to many indigenous

Australians of the ‘stolen generations’) who felt a heavy burden of gratefulness for being ‘saved’ 21 has contributed to the significant reduction in such language particularly in official discourse. At this point in time American and Australian policy makers differ greatly in how they think about adoption. While Australia’s adoption policy makers usually display a lack of enthusiasm for the institution of adoption 22 , the crisis in the

United States in the domain of foster care and ‘at-risk’ children has brought adoption to

20 Australia Institute of Health and Welfare publication, Adoption Australia 2003-4 states that “the number of local placement adoptions has fallen overall from 127 to 73 between 1998-99 and 2003-04”. Placement adoptions “are adoptions where the child is legally available and placed for adoption and the child and the adoptive parents have generally had no previous contact or relationship” (AIHW. 2004:16) 21 Some of the older adoptees in this study mentioned that their parents expected them to feel grateful for the new life they had been given effectively silencing them on issues of pain or loss that they may be experiencing in relation to their adoption. See also (Armstrong 2001:12) and (Williams 2003) for further explanation. 22 A federal ‘Inquiry into the adoption of children from overseas’ was conducted in 2005 to consider “any inconsistencies in State and Federal approval processes for overseas adoptions and any inconsistencies between the benefits and entitlements provided to families with their own birth children and those provided to families who have adopted children from overseas”. The inquiry was instigated by sustained lobbying from adoptive parents about the inequalities and inconsistencies in federal government and individual state departments’ policies and practices in relation to Intercountry adoption. Refer www.aph.gov.au/house/committee/fhs/adoption. For further information on Australian policy makers’ attitudes to adoption in Australia and the cultural, social and historical factors which have impacted their decisions refer my Honours thesis (Gray 1999). Discourses on Adoption and Identity in Adoptee Narratives 145

the forefront in current American discourse on child welfare (Modell 2002; Patton

2000). While it is not my intention to advocate for the U.S. adoption system over the

Australian system (the relatively unregulated U.S system has significant flaws), it is worth pointing out that to date, although Australia’s foster care system and the situation of ‘at-risk’ children may be seen to be in a similar state of crisis 23 , the word ‘adoption’ remains conspicuous by its absence. In the Australian context the emphasis in adoption policy and practice is on the perilous nature of adoptee identity construction, with identity being reduced to ‘roots’ and ‘race’, a point I wish to expand on in the following chapter.

It is interesting to note the differences between the older and the younger group members in relation to their adoptee status. Having usually spent their early years in an environment where adoption information is more readily available than for the older group, most in the younger group speak openly about adoption issues. Amara, Sri-

Lankan – Australian adoptee, age 21, contributed to the Colour of Difference project and spoke about a pamphlet she had received from PARC which upset her greatly.

She said, “it had lots of negative stuff about adoption…something like adoptees feeling like a fraud on a family tree…and feeling that if the person who gave birth to you didn’t love you, how is anyone else going too”. She went on to say that in her experience “it doesn’t matter whether you are adopted or not…things happen in families…you could be unhappy in your birth family…to be angry about the whole thing is so very sad. I couldn’t be angry with my birth mother”. Amara wanted me to be aware of others who had mostly positive adoption experiences like herself. She spoke about her friend, Joe, who was also in the Colour of Difference and has had similar experiences to Amara. At the time I spoke to Amara, Joe was in Colombia, his birth country, where he hoped to

23 Refer Senate Committee report (2005) ‘Protecting vulnerable children: a national challenge: second report on the inquiry into children in institutional or out-of-home care/ Community Affairs References Committee’, Canberra, ACT. Discourses on Adoption and Identity in Adoptee Narratives 146

work in an orphanage. Amara’s views on her adoptive status seem to mirror Mallika’s ideas in many ways.

It seems that most of the adoptees who were young in the1990s have benefited from the relatively open nature of their adoption. For some, like adolescents Amy, Min

Kyung and Jon, being adopted is just one part of their hybrid existence – being adopted does not define them or determine who they will become. Amy spoke about how she felt about her adoptive status, her Asian appearance and how her parents and peer group have supported her. She says:

I really think my parents did a good job in letting us know about being adopted, always letting us make our own decisions on whether we wanted to find out about our birth parents and did as much as they could.

Talking to someone about being adopted doesn't come up very often. I don't see myself as anything different. My Mum is my Mum and my Dad is my Dad. I always get asked if I ever want to find my birth mother and all I say is, Why? I have a mother and I can only handle one on my back at a time. No, I don't want to find her…I think it would just make things hard. She could be a nice person and if she wants to find me and say hi, let her. But I have a great family and nothing would ever change that. My friend Yong and I were talking one night at this party about being adopted and Asian. We had had a bit to drink and were telling each other all the things people say to us like "are you adopted, sorry" like what are you sorry about we have good families and were not hurt or sad??? Strange…

Anyway I have better things to worry about, like teenagers do. But if I have a problem I either write a poem about it or talk to my mum about the things. The private things I write down and some things my Mum or Dad can help me out with (Amy – Korean-Australian adoptee – Age 17).

Amy points to the sometimes negative perception that the status of adoption has in the broader community and resists being labelled a victim because of her adoptee position.

Min Kyung also talked about the role her parents and friends play in the way she feels about herself:

My parents play a big role in why I have no problem with being adopted, they teach me about Korean culture, they take me and my sister to eat Korean at a Korean restaurant every now and then. My mum teaches me to make Korean food, and she encourages me to learn the language and both support my choices about meeting my birth parents. They took me and my sister back to Korea to just explore and take in our culture, also just for a holiday. My friends are also a big help, none of them really ask about it. I guess I wouldn't mind if they did, they just treat me as normal, my other Korean friends help as well. I Discourses on Adoption and Identity in Adoptee Narratives 147

guess because I never feel out of place even with all my other friends, ‘cause they are all Asian like me (Min Kyung – Korean-Australian adoptee - Age 16).

There is an element of defensiveness in some of the young adoptees statements about how they feel about being adopted. Some appear to be writing in direct response to the dominant ideological position – that is, the pervasive official and popular discourse that says there is something inherently problematic about the institution of adoption and that adopting across racial lines is essentially a recipe for disaster. I have attempted to explain how the changing dominant adoption discourses of the last few decades have impacted on the lives of some adoptees in the older and younger groups of adoptees.

However, the intricacies associated with the changing nature of adoptee identities in relation to particular racial discourses and how race intersects with other aspects of an individuals’ sense of self requires further analysis.

There are a number of questions which need to be addressed in the chapters to follow.

What are the racial discourses which have influenced the way adoptees see themselves and the way intercountry adoptive families are perceived by the wider community? How have these discourses changed over the last few decades? Do intercountry adoptees share common experiences relating to racial and cultural identity with other minority groups such as other 1.5 and second generation immigrants? How are their experiences in relation to racial difference related to feelings of belonging to their adopted nation? How much does ‘race’ matter to their sense of self? What modes of belonging do they employ to find their place in the global community? An examination of such questions will enable the complexities of adoptees’ fluid, dynamic identities to be understood within a more expansive framework, beyond essentialism and notions of ‘completeness’ and towards an understanding of what they will become.

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CHAPTER EIGHT

Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and Nation Building in Adoptee Narratives

Race is a discursive not a biological category. That is to say, it is the organising category of those ways of speaking, systems of representation and social practices (discourses) which utilize a loose, often unspecified set of differences in physical characteristics – skin colour, hair texture, physical and bodily features etc. – as symbolic markers in order to differentiate one group socially from another (Hall 1992:298).

‘Race’ is indeed a socio-political construct which is historically and culturally situated and the ‘symbolic markers’ of racial difference continue to have very real effects on the lives of those who are ‘othered’, that is, those who are usually defined by what they are not. As Hall suggests, although the term ‘race’ has no scientific basis, biological notions of distinct races of people have “underpinned extreme forms of nationalist ideology and discourse in earlier periods (such as) Victorian eugenics, European race theories (and) fascism” (Hall 1992:298). Indeed, racial identity “can sustain fascist social movements as readily as emancipatory ones, and difference may license genocide almost as easily as it does celebration” (Goldberg 1994:13).

However, my concerns about how a minority group such as intercountry adoptees are affected by racial discourses are related to the ways words such as ‘culture’ and

‘cultural identity’ have been reduced to essentialist notions about imagined racial categories. Such discourse also promotes images about who belongs with whom, about Self and Other, about inclusion and exclusion, about the ‘natural’ order of things and reduces the complexity of identity construction to perceived notions of racial difference. The reality of race, however, not only manifests itself in socially constructed imposed identities but is also about individuals and groups self-naming, that is claiming a particular identity based on historically and socially attributed racial difference. Thus, one manifestation cannot be understood without the other – the convergence of Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 149

ascribed racial categories and the claiming of a particular ‘cultural identity’ are intricately linked.

Intercountry adoptees straddle the boundary between the dominant white culture (as legitimate members of their (usually) white adoptive families and citizens of their adoptive nation) and minority culture, marked by physical characteristics imbued with particular complex social, cultural and political meanings. The position in which they find themselves at varying stages of their lives may well be an uncomfortable, or even worse, place to be. However, it may also be a position rich in possibilities and opportunity and a chance to subvert their difference and realise their ‘symbolic capital’.

As Ien Ang suggests, “Claiming one’s difference and turning it into symbolic capital has become a powerful and attractive strategy among those who have been marginalised or excluded from the structures of white or Western hegemony” (Ang 2003:141).

An understanding of the complexities associated with racial and cultural identity formation in intercountry adoptees requires an analysis of the particular racial and cultural discourses which have impacted on their lives. Particular meanings about ‘race’ and ‘culture’ are integral to Australia’s history of nation building. I wish to consider how intercountry adoptees’ lives have been shaped by discourses of race and culture present in the policies and practices of assimilation and multiculturalism and in discourses about the Australian ‘way of life’. But more importantly, I am interested in the ways adoptees have (re)shaped their own lives within and beyond artificially imposed categories and how successive groups of intercountry adoptees continue to

(re)invent numerous positions contextualised in particular spaces and places. Of course, intercountry adoptees are not alone in their negotiations of race and cultural identity. I believe their ambivalent and complex social positions may be better understood by comparing some of their life experiences with other groups, such as Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 150

some second and other generations of Asian youth living in Australia and this will be considered in greater depth in the following chapter.

In the previous chapter I discussed how adoption discourses have impacted on different generations of adoptees in Australia and how they have changed throughout the twentieth century, particularly in the last decades. This chapter will expand on the idea of adoptees being subjected to a discourse of victimisation present in official and popular dialogue on the ‘intercountry adoptee condition’ and present examples of adoptees’ negotiations and resistance to such discourse. Perhaps a good place to begin the discussion on discourses of race and culture then, is to consider Said’s analysis of the Other and consider how some adoptee experiences of racial difference may be at least partially explained by using Said’s ideas.

Said’s Ideas on the Discourse of Orientalism

Taking the late eighteenth century as a very roughly defined starting point Orientalism can be discussed and analysed as the corporate institution for dealing with the Orient - dealing with it by making statements about it, authorizing views of it, describing it, by teaching it, settling it, ruling over it: in short, Orientalism as a Western style for dominating, restructuring, and having authority over the Orient (Said 1995:3).

Said was interested in Orientalism as a cultural phenomenon and showed how the word was not only used by those professional people specialising in ‘The Orient’, but how it was present in the broader culture, in the literature and in social and political attitudes. He explained how the term ‘oriental’ was used “not just to designate that person as someone whose language, geography and history were the stuff of learned treatises: it was often meant as a derogatory expression signifying a lesser breed of human being” (Said 1995:341).

Said employs Gramsci’s ideas on the distinction between civil and political society - civil society being generally non-coercive associations such as families, schools and Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 151

unions and political society being organisations such as the police, the army and the bureaucracy - to explain how certain cultural forms, operating in civil society, predominate over others. Gramsci called this hegemony 24 and Said sees this cultural dominance of the industrial West as fuelling the discourse of Orientalism, a discourse which places the Westerner in a series of superior relationships with the Orient 25 (Said

1995:7). Said has been criticised for his ”unilateral construction of the objects of orientalism as silent participants in Western hegemonic projects” (Ong 1998:135), see also (Bhabha 1994c; Rizvi 1996). However, Said demonstrates an awareness of the changing and contingent nature of the relationship between Self and Other in the decades following the release of Orientalism in the 1970s. He attempts to address his critics in the Afterword of the 1995 edition and states, “it is now strikingly no longer the case that the lesser peoples – formerly colonised, enslaved, suppressed – are silent or unaccounted for except by senior European or American males. There has been a revolution in the consciousness of women, minorities and marginals so powerful as to affect mainstream thinking world-wide”. Now the theoretical approaches of postcolonialism and postmodernism are used to explain “new modes and forms of the old colonialist practices” (Said 1995: 350).

This appears to be the ongoing power of Said’s message, that the language describing and categorising Self and Other may have changed but it continues to promote the differences between the familiar (us) and the strange (them) albeit contingent on local,

24 Stuart Hall points out that Gramsci “was not, of course, the originator of the term hegemony . Lenin used it in an analytic sense to refer to the leadership which the proletariat in Russia was required to establish over the peasantry in the struggles to found a socialist state”. However, Hall suggests that “one of the key questions posed for us by the study of developing societies…is the balance of and relations between different social classes in the struggle for national and economic development…(and) the degree to which the peasant class is a leading element in the struggles which found the national state…” (Hall 1996:424). Thus Gramsci enabled us to see how “hegemony is not exercised in the economic and administrative fields alone, but encompasses the critical domains of cultural, moral, ethical and intellectual leadership” (Hall 1996:426). 25 It is worth pointing out here what Said means by ‘the Orient’. He says, “to speak of Orientalism therefore is to speak mainly, although not exclusively, of a British and French cultural enterprise…which until the early nineteenth century had really only meant India and the Bible lands”. However, “from the beginning of the nineteenth century until the end of World War II France and Britain dominated the Orient and Orientalism; since World War II America has dominated (Said 1995:4)”. In the Afterword of his 1995 edition, Said speaks of how the nineteenth century colonial enterprise of defining and controlling the Other continues “in the works of United States policy-makers, the media, and of course US foreign policy itself, which remains interventionist in the Middle East, Latin America, and Eastern Europe and frankly missionary everywhere else, especially in its policies towards Russia and the former Soviet republics” (Said 1995:349). Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 152

regional and national differences. Indeed as we shall see when multicultural Australia is analysed further on in the chapter, language about the Other, for example, dialogue about who is or is not welcome to reside in Australia remains in popular and official discourse.

So the pertinent questions seem to be, not only whether discourse about Self and

Other continues to manifest itself in different ways, but how and why this occurs in particular socio-political settings. This leads to the further, more important question about the extent those categorised as Other, such as intercountry adoptees, have internalised feelings of inferiority and how their perceptions of self have changed throughout their lives. It is important to mention Stuart Hall’s reference to Fanon here.

Speaking from his lived experience as a Jamaican, living his adult life “in England, in the shadow of the black diaspora”, Hall says, “Not only in Said’s ‘Orientalist’ sense, were we constructed as different and other within the categories of knowledge of the

West by those regimes. They had the power to make us see and experience ourselves as ‘Other’…That is the lesson – the sombre majesty – of Fanon’s insight into the colonising experience in ‘Black Skin, White Masks’“(Hall 1990:225-226).

But are there ways that adoptees and others have managed to escape the seemingly totalising discourse of otherness and position themselves within, outside or in between the dominant and ‘other’ culture? We need to consider the discourse of orientalism and otherness in specific geographical, social, historical, cultural and political contexts in

Australia and consider the way individual adoptees have managed particular racial discourses. Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 153

Orientalism and Otherness in the Australian Context

By way of an introduction into the policies and practices of Australia’s relationships with the Other, I wish to use the example of Naomi, a Malaysian-Australian adoptee who came to Australia in the 1970s. I discussed Naomi’s situation in relation to discourses of adoption and victimisation in the previous chapter and spoke about her belief that she was relatively powerless to change her situation.

Growing up in her white family with no contact with any other Asian people, Naomi, like most of the Vietnamese adoptees, felt that she had constantly to explain why she was racially different from her family, and this contributed to her feelings of racial inferiority, ambiguity about her cultural identity as well as to issues in relation to belonging.

Moreover, unlike most of the other Vietnamese and Malaysian adoptees her experiences of feeling racially isolated have continued into adulthood. She says:

My friends speak of me as an Australian/Pom because of my accent and way of thinking. Even now my social and work circles are completely non-oriental and I am acutely aware of this. When I shop with mother strangers or acquaintances assume mother to be a mother-in-law, neighbour or landlord. When mother was in hospital she had to reiterate twice that I was the nearest Next of Kin…even when mother is not around my brother is presumed to be a boyfriend. My job is caring for the elderly (where) I deal with families extensively and consistently see family resemblances at work - I am seriously thinking of changing jobs to one that is not as family orientated but know that now is not the time. I divorced before children came along but I yearn dreadfully to have a child so as to be physically connected to someone.

Naomi’s use of the word “non-oriental” seems somehow incongruous within the context of 21 st century Australia. It seems to come from the language of another, much older generation of Australians who tended to group all Asian peoples together as a sometimes ‘exotic’, but always different, ‘other’. Her use of the word ‘oriental’ points to the way her social environment has impacted on the way she views herself and how her ongoing connection with this monocultural environment sees her locked in the language of another time. In place of the word ‘oriental’, we may now hear ‘Asian’ or

‘ethnic’, just as the word ‘race’ is now replaced by more politically acceptable terms Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 154

such as ‘culture’ or ‘heritage’. While none of the other adoptees in this study use the term ‘oriental’ the fact that it is still part of Naomi’s vocabulary suggests that the discourse lingers on in some areas of Australian culture.

As I have mentioned previously, Naomi is not alone in her feelings of racial isolation.

She shares feelings of otherness with many of the other adoptees, particularly the older group. The point I wish to make about her use of the term ‘non-oriental’ is that it illustrates the power of authoritative language to define, categorise and control individuals and groups in society, and, further, the way language perpetuates artificial boundaries between people. Said’s message about the importance of exposing the sweeping historical generalizations about the unbridgeable gap between the ‘East’ and the ‘West’ remains true. He says:

…any attempt to force cultures and peoples into separate or distinct breeds or essences exposes not only the misrepresentations and falsifications that ensue, but also the way in which understanding is complicit with the power to produce such things as the ‘Orient’ or the ‘West’ (Said 1995:349).

There is a need to understand Naomi’s sense of powerlessness within the context of

Australia’s dominant relationship with the Other, but it is also necessary to understand the variety of ways in which Naomi (and other intercountry adoptees) live within their position of difference . In other words, not all of the adoptees feel the same sense of powerlessness as expressed by Naomi – they may have experienced their position of difference differently depending on particular social, cultural, political and personal contexts. However, as I have already suggested, they are all subject to what

Rutherford and others have described as “the hierarchical language of the West” where

“what is alien represents otherness, the site of difference and the repository of our fears and anxieties” (Rutherford 1990:10). But the “hierarchial language of the West” also needs to be contextualised, and so, for example, Naomi’s negotiations of otherness should be viewed within the broader framework of Australian government social policy and practices. Further, as Hall suggests, while identity does not proceed in Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 155

a linear fashion from some fixed origin, cultural identity “has its histories – and histories have their real, material and symbolic effects”. We need to be aware that identities are framed by two ‘axes’ or ‘vectors’, as Hall describes, operating simultaneously, that is

“the vector of similarity and continuity; and the vector of difference and rupture” (Hall

1990:226).

The construction of identities, therefore, needs to be understood as a relationship between the two ‘axes’ – between similarity and difference. Intercountry adoptees live within this framework of ambiguity and ambivalence. While they have been positioned as the same – sometimes in relation to other family members - at other times in relation to other people of their ‘ethnic’ background, at the same time they are positioned as

‘other’, as different to other members of their adoptive families and to the broader community. Australia’s strategies for nation building have, at different moments in history and sometimes simultaneously, incorporated notions of sameness and difference and it is to these policies that we now turn in an effort to understand the way they have contributed to intercountry adoptees’ and others’ identity construction.

Building the Australian Nation – Constructions of Sameness and Difference

Australia’s history of nation building is intricately linked with discourses of race. As Jon

Stratton states “since before Federation, and during the White Australia policy through until the mid-1970s, race had been central to Australian thinking about who was eligible to become a member of the Australian nation” (Stratton 1998:42, see also Kivisto 2002;

Rizvi 1996; Viviani 1996).

From Federation in 1901 Australia defined itself legally and culturally as ‘white

Australia’ (Kivisto 2002:107). The Immigration Restriction Act of 1901, which Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 156

effectively legitimised the emerging White Australia policy, restricted non-Europeans from entering Australia “by erecting a racial divide between those deemed to be capable of assimilation into Australian society and those who were not” (Kivisto

2002:107) 26 . In the making of the Australian nation, racial harmony was considered necessary for national harmony. Jon Stratton and Ien Ang refer to Richard White’s analysis that during the nineteenth century in Australia there was “no strong evidence of a distinctively Australian identity”. Rather, “Australians saw themselves, and were seen by others, as part of a group of new, transplanted, predominantly Anglo Saxon emigrant societies” (Stratton and Ang 1998:148). At least, this is how they imagined themselves to be – as the much quoted Benedict Anderson suggests, national identity is an ‘imagined community’ (Anderson 1983).

In reality the Australian population prior to Federation was far from homogeneously

Anglo-Saxon. However, as part of the project of nation building at the turn of the century such imaginings were enshrined in law 27 . Stratton and Ang point to the

“historical specificity of the racism inscribed in this policy of exclusion” and suggest that, “its motivation was not primarily a negative one, in the sense of being directed against other races (although, in practice, it was mostly targeted at the Chinese and

Japanese while spanning, of course, all the ‘non-white’ races). Rather, the policy was implemented at a critical moment in the positive development of a distinctive national identity” (Stratton and Ang 1998:148). Nevertheless, the White Australia policy was to

26 Kivisto goes on to state that “in making this invidious distinction between whites and nonwhites, policy-makers relied on the Social Darwinian racial theories of the era, with their conviction that the “inferior” races would lower the quality of life and that miscegenation was a distinct threat that must be prevented at all costs” (Kivisto 2002:108). 27 Stratton points out that concerns about the whiteness of the population and about a homogeneous culture were not as apparent prior to Federation. He says “over time, and as a part of Australian nation-building, there has developed the myth that, with the exception of the Chinese in Australia, the population of the Australian colonies before Federation was…white and drawn from Britain and Ireland. This myth is reinforced by the myth that, in the convict period, the convicts also come from these countries. Taken together, these two myths provide a fantasy primordial origin for the Australian nation and helped to legitimate both the White Australia policy and the emphasis on complete cultural assimilation”. He goes on to suggest that convicts were transported to Australia not only from Britain but from other British colonies such as India as well as African-American convicts and migrants working on the goldfields of New South Wales and Victoria. Stratton refers to some historians who suggest that there was much less racism against the Afro- Blacks than against the Chinese who were thought to present an economic threat on the goldfields (Stratton 1998:91-2). Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 157

remain the dominant immigration policy until 1966 and was not entirely extinguished until 1975 (Cox 1987; Viviani 1996).

Concerns about the racial purity of the new nation were also linked to Australia’s close proximity and contradictory relationship with countries of Asia. Various social theorists have pointed to the consistent theme of Asia being seen as a threat to Australia - see for example, (Kivisto 2002; Murphy 1993; Rizvi 1996; Stratton 1998; Thomas 1999;

Viviani 1996). Fazal Rizvi makes the pertinent point that it wasn’t “until 1961 that

‘Australia for the White Man’ was removed as the masthead of the popular magazine, the Bulletin” (Rizvi 1996:177). In the Australian imagination, particularly prior to World

War Two, representations of ‘Asians’ were in the Saidian sense, distinctly Orientalist.

Rizvi suggests that few Australians had travelled to any Asian countries prior to World

War Two other than as traders and missionaries. ‘Asia’ was viewed as one homogenised continent, as Other and this was legitimated by Christian views and scientific notions “of a biological hierarchy of races in which all ‘Asianics’ were lumped into the same inferior category” (Rizvi 1996:175).

Following Australia’s involvement in the Second World War, Australian representations of Asia became far more complex and contradictory. However it was to be some time before the White Australia policy was relaxed to include a significant number of immigrants from Asian countries. After the war, a decision was made to promote an immigration program to encourage white immigrants. There were a number of reasons for this immigration policy. Encouraging ‘New Australians’ (as recent immigrants were called at the time), who could effectively assimilate was seen as a way to counter the falling birthrate, as a way for Australia effectively to defend itself following the Japanese attack on Northern Australia in World War Two and to provide a work force for the expanding industrial sector. The Minister for Immigration, Arthur Callwell, summed up the feelings of the decision makers of the time with his words ‘populate or perish’. Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 158

The White Australia policy was reformed and the category ‘white’ expanded to include immigrants from Southern Europe as there was an inadequate number of British and

Northern European immigrants available (Cox 1987; Stratton and Ang 1998). David

Cox notes an ethnic preference hierarchy which saw British and Northern European immigrants being eligible for assistance under assisted passage schemes while southern Europeans were usually required to meet their own passage costs (Cox

1987).

Australia’s involvement in the Vietnam War began a highly controversial period in

Australia’s political history. Nancy Viviani reports that the failure of allied intervention in the war and the communist takeover of South Vietnam left Australia with the challenge of determining what its obligations were in relation to Vietnamese refugees who wished to seek refuge after the fall of Saigon in 1975. The situation of displaced persons continued to escalate after 1978 when Vietnam invaded Cambodia followed by China’s invasion of Vietnam, and Australia came under increased international pressure to relieve the refugee situation in ASEAN countries. Viviani points to the fear campaign present in some of Australia’s media at the time about ‘the Asian Hordes’ arriving on

Australia’s shores but suggests that “despite the fears of politicians, the exaggerations of the press and the actions of some anti-Asian groups, the government had a basically supportive public opinion on taking boat people until the exodus from Vietnam of 1979”

(Viviani 1996:11). It was amidst a climate of changing political and public opinion that intercountry adoption arrived on the scene.

Intercountry Adoption and Constructions of Asian Otherness

As mentioned in Chapter Two, intercountry adoption in Australia did not commence in any systematic way until near the end of the Vietnam War when Vietnamese children arrived as part of Operation Babylift . Throughout the war years a number of individual

Australian families had made arrangements directly with in Vietnam to Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 159

adopt children. Images of the destruction and devastation of war had made their way into people’s living rooms. Harvey reports that some people decided to adopt after seeing disturbing images of the violence against Vietnamese children (Harvey 1980).

Williams points to images of napalm attacks on children and the My Lai massacre as motivating some prospective adoptive parents to consider adoption (Williams 2003:14).

However, public attitudes towards the adoption of Vietnamese children into Australian families varied considerably. While Harvey reports that in NSW alone the Department of Youth and Community Services received 4,000 requests for adoption applications, other sections of the community reacted differently.

Dom, age 27, a Vietnamese adoptee who was evacuated to Australia as part of

Operation Babylift spoke of the range of social attitudes of the time. He says:

My parents had to deal with members of the community who disapproved of adopting children from third world countries, the ideas of detachment from one's ‘natural’ country as being detrimental to the child's mental development or the notion of children not being able to assimilate into the general population (Dom – Vietnamese-Australian adoptee – Age 27).

Concerns about intercountry adoptees not being able to “assimilate into the general population” were indicative of the broader concerns which had been firmly entrenched in government and community attitudes since the intake of predominantly white immigrants in the post World War Two era. David Cox, in his discussion on welfare policy for Australia’s immigrants says, “In the period from 1945-1965…it was considered preferable for all concerned that immigrants learn to speak English, adopt

Australian ways and generally merge into the Australian community as quickly as possible…the understanding of welfare needs…was very limited. The focus of attention was on individuals and personalised welfare with the ultimate goal being assimilation

(Cox 1987:206-7).

Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 160

Stratton and Ang refer to Markus (1979) to define the official rhetoric of cultural assimilationism as “the doctrine that immigrants could be culturally and socially absorbed and rapidly become indistinguishable from the existing Anglo-Australian population” (Stratton and Ang 1998:151). By the mid 1960s the White Australia policy was abandoned by both sides of politics and the policy of assimilationism replaced by a transitional policy of integrationism which allowed migrants to maintain aspects of their previous culture for some time before being expected to integrate into mainstream

Anglo culture. The policy of multiculturalism (which I will elaborate on later in the chapter) emerged in 1973 partly as a result of the failure of both assimilationist and integrationist policies to meet the needs of the growing migrant population.

Mandy Thomas, speaking about the experiences of Vietnamese immigrants, suggests that the images of the Vietnam War, media stereotypes associated with new arrivals and the limited personal contact with the majority culture led to stereotypes in the media portraying Vietnamese “as violent, as victims, or as acceptable only when appropriating Australian mainstream values which deny their ethnicity” (Thomas

1999:26). It is not surprising then, given Vietnamese immigrants’ limited contact with mainstream culture that adoptees usually had minimal or no contact with Vietnamese-

Australian communities until more recent years. In addition, it is worth mentioning the role some public figures play in influencing public opinion and in affecting intercountry adoptees’ acquisition of a positive sense of self. I refer here to the debates in the 1980s about Asian immigration, for example, historian Geoffrey Blainey and then Opposition

Leader, John Howard espoused views about the ‘degree of tolerance’ that the public has towards Asian immigrants and their lifestyle which was seen as incompatible with the Australian lifestyle (Stratton 1998; Viviani 1996). Viviani reports that despite the sometimes “hysterical press treatment of the issue”, the feared ‘invasion’ did not eventuate. She goes on to say that “over the period from the fall of Saigon in 1975 to Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 161

the end of 1982 only 2059 boat people arrived on Australia’s shores and by the same date we had settled by regular entry 55,711 people from Indochina” (Viviani 1996).

Given the political controversy over Vietnamese boat-people and assimilationist views expressed in the public domain, as well as the policy of adoption secrecy, there was little space, opportunity or resources for most Vietnamese adoptees (or indeed any other adoptees from Asian countries) to explore any identity other than their position in predominantly white, middle-class families. It would be some time before Australia incorporated ‘Asians’ as part of its national cultural imaginary. Stratton in his discussion of how ‘Asians’ have been narrativised suggests that it wasn’t until the 1990s “twenty years after the ending of the White Australia policy, that Asians, signified by a racially constructed difference, are beginning to be thought of as members of the Australian population” (Stratton 1998:164).

Williams, in her study on Vietnamese adoptees growing up in Western countries suggests that representations of Vietnamese culture were mainly restricted to

American-made Vietnam War films. This is consistent with Dom’s experience, a

Vietnamese-Australian adoptee who describes his school experiences as , “definitely negative race, racism, bigotry, alien, and teachers pet. I'm your typical Asian nerd. I studied history, arts, music, the Vietnam War, Rambo, Deer Hunter, Tour of Duty, and

China Beach”.

Dom’s description of himself as “your typical Asian nerd” highlights the way media and other popular representations of ‘Asians’ became incorporated in his self image. Indi, on the other hand, highlights the gender differences present in adoptee narratives when describing representations of ‘Asians’ in the media. She says:

I mainly identified with anyone on the television who wasn't white - such as black actresses on television. The Asian images on television were not always flattering so Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 162

often that would embarrass me and I would think - I'm not that stereotype geeky non- athletic social outcast they're portraying. However, if there was a positive Asian image, or like the Bond girls in You Only Live Twice etc. - I was very happy to see them and identify. Vietnam War movies just made me sad. I felt that the characters who were Asian were falsely shallow or purposely passive (Indi – Vietnamese-Australian adoptee – Age 30).

Like Indi, Sue was concerned about the way Asian women were portrayed and also actively sought to resist negative gender images. She says: “I felt deep inside I was always trying to out run the stereotypes that are placed on ‘illegitimate war orphan

Asian woman’. I wanted to be seen as anything other than a weak, helpless female ”.

Sue’s response and ongoing resistance to cultural representations of ‘others’ as victims appears to have been significantly influenced by the family, social and community support she received in her younger years. As mentioned in the previous chapter, Sue was raised in a more ‘multicultural’ area by parents who resisted the assimilationist tendencies of the broader community and incorporated cultural diversity into their everyday life. But her situation (and also the Sri Lankan adoptee, Mallika’s experience) were not indicative of the rest of the older group. Rather, their responses to negative media representations highlight the level of access they had to family and social support to assist their resistance to such images. The Vietnamese adoptees’ responses to media representations of ‘Asians’ in the 1970s and 80s then, appear to be consistent with Stratton, Thomas and others’ ideas about the (in)visibility of ‘Asians’ in Australian film and other media imagery at this time, particularly in any positive context.

The decades of the 1970s and 80s can be seen as the time when the already established discourse of sameness and cultural homogeneity (assimilation) paved the way for the construction and celebration of cultural difference (multiculturalism) in more recent decades. It must be said, however, that while it would be easy to suggest that official and everyday multiculturalism has all but replaced the discourse of assimilation Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 163

in Australian life, it would perhaps be more accurate to view the practices of multiculturalism as influenced by a hybrid mix of official rhetoric on cultural (rather than racial) sameness and difference, everyday constructions of difference and lingering myths about the importance of a cultural homogeneous society. However before I proceed to a discussion about the social, political and cultural practices of multiculturalism, I wish to consider further how the discourse of assimilation has affected and continues to impact on intercountry adoptees perceptions of self.

Cultural Assimilation and the ‘Australian Way of Life’

The relaxation of the category ‘white’ in official discourse after World War Two meant that“…’whiteness’ could no longer be related directly to the (British derived) racial purity of the ‘Australian type’’ (Stratton and Ang 1998:151). As Stratton and Ang suggest,

“racial homogeneity and cultural homogeneity could no longer be assumed to be one and the same thing. As a result, emphasis was now placed on the concept of ‘the

Australian way of life’ as the basis of government policy to assimilate migrants and

Aborigines alike” (Stratton and Ang 1998:151). In this way Australia came to define assimilation in cultural rather than racial terms, that is, in order to preserve the uniquely

‘Australian way of life’, there was a need to preserve ‘one particular culture’ and all other ‘cultures’ were considered incompatible.

It is interesting to note the differences between Australian ideas of assimilation and

American ideas and how these differences play out in the everyday experiences of

American and Australian intercountry adoptees. Stratton and Ang in their comparison of both societies note different emphases in each, that is, whereas America is considered to be a “melting of many different ‘cultures’ into a universal set of ideological principles and values (of which the ‘American way of life’ is the supreme embodiment), Australian assimilationism aimed at the preservation of one particular Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 164

culture, the distinctively ‘Australian way of life’ by excluding all ‘cultures’ which were considered incompatible and incapable of assimilation” (Stratton and Ang 1998:152).

The idea of the Australian way of life as “one particular culture” is reinforced in the words of some of the participants in this study. Mallika, for example explains how she views her family and her racial difference. She says:

We do NOT consider ourselves to be a multicultural family. We are multi-racial, but one culture with a lot of exposure to the culture of other people…

My skin colour is hardly unique these days - we have a multicoloured community, but when I was growing up I was usually the only choc-chip in the cookie. My skin colour did not make me act any differently to any of my friends, and I was 100% sure that difference in all its forms was what made people interesting and unique and special. All our friends families had the same culture as us - of being open to new experiences, but didn't really have customs or religion...you know, Australian culture! (Mallika – Sri Lankan-Australian adoptee – Age 26).

Mallika’s sense of cultural belonging to the unique ‘Australian way of life’ and her attitude about “being open to new experiences” contrasts with many of the experiences of the older adoptees who appeared to feel a greater sense of isolation from mainstream culture particularly in the 1970s and 80s. However, her thoughts are reiterated in a conversation on Korean Adoptees Worldwide listserv (KAW) in 2004 between a number of Korean-American adoptees and some younger Korean-

Australian adoptees. An Australian adoptee, Linnea (about whom I spoke in the

‘Travelling Back’ chapter concerning her trip to Korea), wrote to the list asking for other

Australians to respond to her thoughts about being adopted. She says:

I’m just wondering if any of my fellow Australian Korean adoptees have had negative experiences, with regard to their adoption. I've met quite a few in my time and to my knowledge have never never encountered anyone with major issues relating to adoption, Korean Government, birth parents, a-parents etc. We've all got issues, but I’ve never actually met anyone, who feels quite as strongly as some of the (American) people on this board. I think it may have something to do with our notoriously laid back attitude..."she'll be 'right"...Not too sure...What do you all think?

Another Korean-Australian adoptee responded: Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 165

Hey! Aussie! aussie! aussie! oi! oi! oi!!!

Now there isn't anything wrong with our attitude to the way we handle things!!!!!!!

I’m an Aussie, lived here all my life and agree with what you say – and quite possibly it does have something to do with our laid back attitude. The language used, shown in the expressions of “she’ll be right” and “laid back attitude”, presents a kind of exaggerated display of cultural belonging to the imagined homogeneous community of Australia. The Korean-Australian adoptees, are at this moment, strategically positioning themselves as the same as all other Australians.

However, at other moments their sense of belonging is disrupted by stark reminders of their difference in relation to family members and others in the community. For example, on another listserv (Australia-adopt-korea), two years prior to her dialogue with the Korean-American adoptees, Linnea, then aged eighteen, is conversing with a group consisting of mostly adoptive parents about her feelings in relation to an SBS documentary, From Korea with Love. The documentary tells the story of a prospective adoptive couple who are proceeding through the long, complicated bureaucratic process in New South Wales to adopt a child from Korea. The camera follows the couple on their journey to Korea and shows an emotionally charged scene where the foster mother, who has looked after the child for the first months of his life, hands the baby to his new Australian parents before they leave for the airport to fly home to

Australia. Linnea says:

I cried and cried last night as I watched that little boy being taken from his foster family and consequently his country. I cried more when I saw him in his new Australian family, because I thought, "this is your culture now, you'll never know Korea, the way that a Korean should, now it's just a foreign land and culture thousands of kilometres away". It was just heartbreaking, because I could feel the physical tie between the child and Korea severing, as they flew back to Australia. It's just impossible to describe the emptiness that alienation from your culture causes.

Linnea appears to be engaging the ‘loss of culture’ equals ‘loss of identity’ discourse so prevalent in contemporary adoption dialogue. The ambiguous, complex nature of

Linnea’s ongoing identity construction is not unlike many of the Vietnamese and Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 166

Malaysian adoptees who also had no contact with their culture of birth until adulthood.

Linnea continues:

While I've always held the belief that it doesn’t matter what race you grow up in, as long as you are alive, healthy, nurtured and loved, I have come to see that perhaps this is a little idealistic. For me, I think that I am evidence that international adoption doesn’t have to hinder the development (emotional/intellectual) of the child. I see myself as well adjusted and intelligent, as a result of my parents and the environment in which I was brought up. However, I have to sit back sometimes and see that there is a huge gaping hole in my heart where a piece of me should be. I know nothing of the culture, which my face tells everyone I am a part of. My parents never cultivated an interest in Korea for me, so now at the age of eighteen, my own culture is so foreign to me that I fear it.

I read Linnea’s response to the documentary From Korea With Love, two years before meeting her at an Australian Adoption conference in 2004. She described to me how overwhelmed she was at the amount of empathetic responses she had received from adoptive parents about her letter to the group. She also mentioned the post-adoption support group she was now a member of and her active involvement in mentoring younger adoptees in her state. The historical specificity of Linnea’s exploration about issues of cultural difference is worth pointing out here. Linnea was able to ask questions, seek help from post-adoption support networks, offer assistance to younger adoptees as well as plan a number of extended trips to Korea in the following years.

She had access to a range of resources which were not readily available to intercountry adoptees in the 1970s and 80s. However, while Linnea had little knowledge of her birth culture until reaching adulthood and lived in a predominantly white area, she does not report feeling alienated from others in the community. She says about her school years in the 1990s:

I didn't live in a multicultural area. There were 'ethnic' kids at my primary school, which was at the time quite diverse in terms of its socio-economic and cultural make up. My high school was not as diverse. I was the only Asian in my year. There were a few other girls of NESB and non-Anglo background. This never phased me really and I think I can count on one hand the number of times that I've experienced racism. And even then, I don't think I ever really felt vilified or scared at the time, just aware of other peoples' stupidity and ignorance. I think my school experiences were quite normal ie not impacted by being adopted or non-white. But I still experienced all sorts of identity, self-esteem type issues that teenagers usually do.

Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 167

I would like to point out that Linnea’s perception about not being exposed to a fairly culturally diverse neighbourhood in her adolescence is similar to some of the younger adoptees in this study but dissimilar to most. However, her attitude to her position of difference is shared by most of the other younger adoptees. It would seem that by the

1990s, multiculturalism had allowed the Other to be (re)imagined differently. This not only affected the way members of the dominant culture imagined the Other but also how individuals living within positions of difference imagined themselves. I will discuss this in greater depth further on. For now it is important to contrast Linnea’s thoughts on racial difference with the sense of dislocation and ambiguity in relation to racial identity construction reported by most of the Vietnamese and Malaysian adoptees growing up in the 1970s and 80s. For example, My Dung says:

I mentioned before about looking in the mirror and seeing an Asian face, but not "feeling" Asian. As a kid, I remember being puzzled about why I would be discriminated against, but every time I looked in the mirror or at my hands I would remember. This is really weird, I know, but I guess I was raised in an Australian family as an Aussie, so thought and acted like one as well. Growing up, I chose not to socialise with Asians, or even be seen with them. I did not feel any connection to other Vietnamese nor wanted to. I figured that I was Australian, living in an Asian body.

Ana experienced something similar. She says:

For most of my life I've not wanted to look Asian. I've never felt Asian, at least not until another kid reminded me that I was with their taunting. No adults in the small town treated me differently or segregated me; the racism I experienced growing up came from school kids during school times…I took those feelings of being uncomfortable in my own skin with me as I grew older.

As a teenager and adolescent I felt truly ugly. I rarely looked in the mirror and when I did, it was never with pride. I struggled to accept my own reflection because my inner feelings were in conflict with my exterior or my perceived exterior. I sound Australian. But I look Asian. I feel white. But I look Asian.

Issues such as feeling ‘white’ but looking Asian, or ‘black’ or ‘other’ are obviously not the sole domain of Australian intercountry adoptees. Dani Meier describes similar experiences in his study of Korean-American intercountry adoptees, as does Sandra

Patton in her exploration of African-American adoptees and Barbara Yngvesson and

Maureen Mahoney offer insightful work on Swedish intercountry adoptees, just to name Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 168

a few (Meier 1998; Patton 2000; Yngvesson 2000). This sense of ambiguity about one’s cultural identity is also present in the narratives of first and subsequent generations of other Asians growing up in Western countries. For example, a

Vietnamese-Canadian girl speaking about growing up in Canada says, “Growing up an

Asian-Canadian is not an easy task. Sure, I was born a Canadian but my parents are

Vietnamese. I clearly look Vietnamese, but am I a true Vietnamese girl? Behind this

Asian face I wear; two different cultures are at war. At home, the Vietnamese mentality reigns; at school, I must act differently to integrate myself”. Nguyen Tuyet Nhung in

(Duc 2004b:192).

While the Vietnamese adoptees above describe feeling like a white Australian living in an Asian body, Nguyen Tuyet Nhung describes her conflicting cultural identities, how she has to position herself differently depending on the socio-cultural context – at home with her Vietnamese family or at school with her friends. Like Linnea who positions herself as both the same and as different to others depending on the particular audience, Hguyen Tuvet Nhung also constantly negotiates and navigates within her positions of difference. Feelings of ‘not belonging’ are as Jonathan Rutherford suggests, “a sense of unreality, isolation and being fundamentally ‘out of touch’ with the world”. Rutherford describes these feelings as endemic “in this postmodern, ‘wide- open’ world (where) our bodies are bereft of those spatial and temporal co-ordinates essential for historicity, for a consciousness of our own collective and personal past”.

He goes on to suggest that, “our struggles for identity and a sense of personal coherence and intelligibility are centred on this threshold between interior and exterior, between self and other…only when we achieve a sense of personal integrity can we represent ourselves and be recognised – this is home, this is belonging” (Rutherford

1990:24).

Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 169

But what are the barriers to achieving this sense of belonging and what are the social and cultural practices which positively attribute to adoptees and others a sense of self?

I wish to suggest that the policy of assimilation with its emphasis on preserving a homogeneous culture and the promotion of a particular Australian ‘way of life’ can be seen as a major barrier to those who are situated on the periphery. The policy failed non-British European immigrants by ignoring and attempting to suppress the cultural practices migrants brought with them from their places of birth. It has also particularly failed our first intercountry adoptees from Vietnam (and some adoptees from other countries who arrived in Australia at this particular time) because its suppression of difference, which lingered long after the policy had been discarded, allowed adoptees little opportunity to explore other ways of understanding themselves beyond the bounded confines of whiteness. For all its faults, multiculturalism has allowed greater access to other ways of being for adoptees and others by its emphasis on cultural difference and diversity and it is to this policy that I now turn.

Multiculturalism and the Construction of Difference

As we have seen in the earlier discussion, cultural assimilationist discourse remains in contemporary Australia. However, intercountry adoptees and ‘others’ are now exposed to a range of discourses about ‘race’ and ‘culture’ which often conflict and contradict each other. The period of the 1970s and the emergence of multiculturalism marked a different era in discussions about race. The term ‘race’ was no longer considered acceptable terminology – the rhetoric of race was now seen to imply essential differences between people, and was replaced by more politically acceptable words such as ‘culture’ and ‘ethnicity’. This is not to say that ‘race’ was no longer a primary way of officially dividing people into categories but rather that perceived ‘racial difference’ was now disguised in the rhetoric of ‘cultural difference’ with the complexities and contradictions of cultural identity construction often reduced to discourse about searching for an ‘essential’, ‘authentic’ identity portrayed in ‘returning Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 170

to roots’ journeys. I wish to elaborate on the contradictions present in both the official and everyday versions of multiculturalism in Australia and comment on the management of cultural diversity and the particular ways that it is negotiated by adoptees.

It has generally been assumed that multiculturalism emerged as a result of the failure of assimilationist and integrationist approaches and in response to the political mobilisation of ‘ethnic’ minorities (Cox 1987; Vasta 1996). Al Grassby, Minister for

Immigration in the Whitlam government introduced the coming of a policy of multiculturalism in 1973 in his speech entitled ‘A Multi-Cultural Society for the Future’ and this was followed by the passing of the Racial Discrimination Act in 1975 in an effort to protect minority groups and combat racism (Cox 1987:184; Kivisto 2002:110;

Stratton 1998; Stratton and Ang 1998). Stratton notes that at this time “the discourse of race all but disappears from the official rhetoric of immigration and official multiculturalism” (Stratton 1998:40). But the emergence of multiculturalism was not only in response to the failure of the policies of assimilation and integrationism. As

Stratton and Ang suggest, the introduction of official multiculturalism actually marked a shift in thinking about Australia’s developing national identity - a move away from understanding the national community in relation to a homogeneous ‘way of life’ and a move towards the promotion of cultural difference with an emphasis on ‘ethnicity’ 28 rather than ‘race’ as markers of that difference.

Multiculturalism then, marked a new way of imagining the nation and the ‘ethnic’ groups living within the nation. The use of the term ‘ethnicity’ arose in Australia in direct relationship to the increasing numbers of non-English speaking migrants and the

28 It is interesting to note the varying historical uses of the word ‘ethnicity’, which originally had the theological connotations of ‘heathen’ or ‘pagan’ but by the nineteenth century had become linked with the terms ‘race’ and ‘nation’ (Gunew 1993). Gunew believes that this shows a connection between the secular and the theological and “that the secular narratives of nationalism often require a sacred justification” (Gunew 1993:8), see also (Anderson 1983; Smith 1971; Smith 1986). It also shows however, that words such as ‘ethnicity’ and ‘race’ take on different social meanings at different times and places throughout history and continually change. Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 171

perception of their social disadvantage (Castles 1992). Stephen Castles suggests that it is also related to issues of ‘global homogenization’ where a ‘resurgence of ethnicity’ is believed to be in response to fears about the undermining of national identities (Castles

1996); see also (Bauman 1997; Hall 1992). Castles sees ‘race’ and ‘ethnicity’ as similar social constructions, both serving to define Self and Other. He agrees with David

Goldberg and suggests the main difference “is that ethnicity uses a rhetoric of cultural content whereas race uses a rhetoric of descent, but these are ‘rhetorical tendencies, not fixed conceptualisations’” (Castles 1996:28; Goldberg 1993).

Official multiculturalism in Australia, as Stratton and Ang suggest, “is concerned with synthesising unruly and unpredictable cultural identities and differences into a harmonious unity–in-diversity” (Stratton and Ang 1998:157). In this way, it is primarily concerned with the management of cultural difference and promotes a discourse of tolerance in relation to ethnic minorities. Where cultural differences were once seen as threatening they are now portrayed in official rhetoric and in popular imagination as enriching Australian national culture. But how is multiculturalism experienced in the everyday? What changes have intercountry adoptees seen in their lives in relation to living with cultural diversity and the rhetoric of multiculturalism?

Intercountry Adoptees Negotiating Difference

Most of older adoptees moved to more culturally diverse areas when they reached adulthood. Kristen’s thoughts are fairly representative of most of the older group in this regard. She says:

I eventually moved to when I was about 20 or 21 years of age and it was the best move I could have made...I met another adoptee...he wasn't an intercountry adoptee but he was already in Brisbane at the time and he convinced me to move here…I no longer live in an area where there is only myself and other Aboriginals in the community that are black...you know Brisbane is a very multicultural city and you know there are Sri Lankans everywhere, there are Indians, Chinese, Vietnamese, Japanese...and its helped me enormously...many of the adoptees that I know that have also been brought up in small regional towns without any other nationalities around have also moved to the metropolitan areas because all of a sudden you feel like you belong there and people Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 172

don't look at you like you are any different and they don't ask you a load of questions, where are you from, how long have you been here...you just don't get those sorts of questions anymore which is fantastic (Kristen – Sri-Lankan-Australian adoptee – Age 29).

Kristen’s decision to move to a more culturally diverse area was the start of her journey to find a sense of belonging and attachment to other intercountry adoptees like herself.

She continues:

I lived in a multicultural city but still felt alienated in the sense that...I don't feel like I belong to Sri Lankan culture and I don't feel like I belong to Australian culture...I am you know…a mix of the two but its nice to be able to identify with one or the other.

Kristen describes her difference in terms of a lack of cultural belonging – ‘Sri Lankan culture’ is described as distinct and separate from ‘Australian culture’. While the rhetoric of official multiculturalism promotes the idea of ‘unity in diversity’, the reality is that ‘ethnic’ communities are socially constructed in binary opposition to the dominant

Anglo-Australian society and seen as mutually exclusive homogeneous entities.

Kristen’s suggestion that it would be “nice to be able to identify with one or the other” illustrates her dilemma and discomfort living ‘in-between’. She describes her attempts to find other adoptees to identify with. She says:

I really wanted to find some support networks around Brisbane that dealt with intercountry adoption because I knew that I couldn't be the only one...so I started to contact the Dept of Families here in Queensland....as it turned out they just kept sending me to other people to get information off them and then that person would refer me to someone else...and in the end there wasn't any support networks set up for intercountry adoptees…...Jigsaw only have support services for local adoptions so we intercountry kids there is nothing for us…so eventually I became aware of PARC in NSW…they had just finished the research they had been doing for the Colour of Difference with all the adoptees...the book hadn't been published yet but the people who had been involved in the book were going to maintain their contact with each other…so that became Intercountry Adoptees Support Network (ICASN).

Finding a support network of other adoptees provided Kristen with a sense of belonging that was previously out of her reach. In the following dialogue, she describes adoptees as a homogeneous group. Like Ana and Naomi, Kristen had limited opportunity to meet other adoptees in her youth and appears to reduce the complexities of her life to her adoptee status. She says: Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 173

I met all these people who were in the same situation as me...they also felt that they didn't belong to Australian culture...nor did they belong to their country of origin and also didn't know anything about their identities...they to had been adopted without their birth details, or their names or their parents details... that was really good for me because I felt that I could identify finally with a group of people that were EXACTLY the same as me, exactly…like some of them hadn't come from Sri Lanka but it didn't matter because they were still experiencing the same, you know...awful emotional sort of feelings I had, like I don't belong, I don't really know who I am… you know my Mum had died early on in my life and I didn't feel particularly confident about myself and getting involved with them gave me much more confidence in who I was and It was OK because everything that was going on for me was also going on for them.

While Kristen finally found a sense of ‘being home’ in the imagined homogeneous community of adoptees, other younger adoptees who have been exposed to a more culturally diverse upbringing and had access to other ways of being and belonging spoke about the opportunities that living in multicultural Australia has allowed them.

Josie, a Korean-Australian, age 16, talked about her friends with ‘multicultural backgrounds’ and her friendship with another Asian-Australian who assists her in her ongoing identity construction. She says:

I was born in Seoul, South Korea and have no siblings, Most of my friends have multicultural backgrounds. They are; South African, French, English, Russian, Italian, and Tessa is half Indonesian and Dutch. But, I only have 1 Asian friend – she's Chinese [I think] and like me, understands what it's like to have both the Asian, and Australian cultures clash. She's not adopted, and prefers to be 'Australianised' with her grunge/alternative clothes and heavy music and so on. So, there is a really diverse community at my school (Josie – Korean-Australian adoptee – Age 16).

What is interesting about Josie’s description is her primary identification with others who are living a similar hybrid existence within Australian youth culture, described as

“grunge/alternative clothes and heavy music and so on”. Like Sri Lankan adoptee

Kristen’s explanation of ‘Sri Lankan culture’ as a separate and distinct entity from the dominant Anglo-Australian culture, Josie also describes the ‘clash’ of ‘Asian’ and

‘Australian cultures’. However, unlike Kristen, Josie does not describe her position of difference in terms of a ‘loss of culture’ or ‘loss of identity’. Rather, she appears to view her situation as an opportunity to “get the best of both worlds”. She says: Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 174

Things I like about being me would have to be the fact that I'm Asian, but on the inside I am Australian. I'm living a Caucasian person lifestyle, and there's really nothing outstanding which reminds me on a daily basis that I shouldn't be or do what I'm doing now but I suppose that’s what I like...I get the best of both worlds – a western, contemporary attitude with fair ideals like, women not being oppressed, or my parents having a big thing about me 'marrying' an Asian guy or any other Asian culture downfalls like say, living in a house with my grandparents or various other relatives. On the other hand with those morals and my capacity to fully understand English I feel equipped to retaliate against racism and I suppose with my Asian body I wouldn't get as fat as a Caucasian person, with the huge amount of food I eat. lol...(laugh out loud). (Josie – Korean-Australian adoptee, Age 16).

Josie appears to be comparing her position to the situation of young ‘Asian’ second generation immigrant experiences of living with difference. She is obviously visualising her life through a Westerners gaze but within this discourse her racial marginality can be reinterpreted as a kind of strategic positioning not unlike the position of others who also live within and between ‘ethnic’ identities and the dominant culture. For example, see (Ang 2003; Noble 1999; Thomas 1999; Butcher and Thomas 2003b). However,

Josie points to a clear difference between her position and others, that is, she suggests that her membership within a Caucasian family allows her greater access to privileges that other ‘ethnic’ youth may not have access to. Further, she speaks about the skills she has acquired which arm her to deal with racism. There are clear differences in the way Josie and some of the young adoptees imagine and redefine their lives compared with some of the older adoptees who describe their lives in terms of ‘loss of identity’.

I wish to explore in greater depth in the next chapter the similarities and differences between the experiences of intercountry adoptees and compare their strategies of resistance to other culturally diverse youth in Australia in relation to issues of difference. For now though, I would like to briefly address the issue of the persistence of racism in multicultural Australia and commence an analysis on how it is negotiated by adoptees. It should be noted at this stage in the discussion that there are significant differences in how the issue of racial difference and racism is dealt with in official intercountry adoption policy and how it is lived by adoptees. Just as the official and everyday versions of multiculturalism show the differences between the official Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 175

categorising of ‘ethnic’ groups as discrete homogeneous entities in need of management and protection and the everyday complexities and contradictions of living difference, intercountry adoptees are also subject to the official idea that they are members of a homogeneous group of passive victims which significantly contrasts with the reality of their heterogeneous, hybrid, dynamic existence. The complexities involved in dealing with racism deserve more than just a cursory glance. I will therefore briefly introduce some examples of adoptees’ resistance to racist discourse which will be analysed in greater depth in the chapter to follow.

Dealing with Racism in Multicultural Australia

No doubt there are certain general features to racism. But even more significant are the ways in which these general features are modified and transformed by the historical specificity of the contexts and environments in which they become active. In the analysis of particular historical forms of racism, we would do well to operate at a more concrete, historicized level of abstractions (that is, not racism in general but racisms) (Hall 1996:435).

One of the major criticisms of the policy of multiculturalism in its present form is its failure to counter the persistence of racism in Australian society (Castles 1996, Vasta

1996, Stratton 1998, Stratton and Ang 1998, Hage 1998, Rizvi 1996). Despite the introduction of a range of labour market, social welfare and education programs to address issues of access and equity for Australia’s ‘ethnic’ populations and significant anti-racism strategies to reduce the incidence of racism in institutional and everyday practices, racism remains. Vasta suggests the importance of distinguishing between

“the aims and rhetoric of multiculturalism and its actual effects in the context of the pervasive racism which operates through the institutions and in the cultural domain”

(Vasta 1996:59). This is my main area of concern – how intercountry adoptees and others experience racism in the contemporary cultural domain, in their everyday lived experience. Is the experience of living with racism all-pervasive for all intercountry adoptees? How is it different to the way the first intercountry adoptees experienced Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 176

racial difference in this country? What are the differences in their responses to racist rhetoric and how can this be accounted for?

As I mentioned previously, the period from the 1990s appears to mark a change in how intercountry adoptees began to (re)imagine themselves as citizens of the Australian nation. This seems to be the case despite the re-emergence in the 1990s of the race debates of the1980s in the form of Pauline Hanson’s, One Nation party and Prime

Minister, John Howard’s scapegoating of illegal boat people and his exploitation of people’s fear of terrorism in the wake of the September 2001 attack on the United

States. In relation to recent government policy on detainment of refugees in prison like facilities, Sri Lankan adoptee Amara made the comment:

At the moment I'm not completely happy about calling myself Australian. I am ashamed of our Government and their policy regarding the refugees. Both my parents feel the same and we have many discussions and do what we can to voice our disapproval. However my life living in Australia has been very positive. So being Australian to me means that Australia is the place I grew up and where home is (Amara – Sri-Lankan-Australian adoptee).

The official rhetoric of multiculturalism continues to promote a discourse of tolerance towards the Other but only within the confines of the acceptable, deserving and controllable Other. As Stratton and Ang suggest in their discussion about Asians as part of the Australian imagined community, “While Chinese, Vietnamese, Malaysian,

Singaporian and other migrants from the Asian region are now considered an integral part of Australia’s ethnic mix, these groups are still collectively racialised whenever a wave of moral panic about Asian immigration flares up. At such moments, the old collusion of race and culture is reinstated” (Stratton and Ang, 1998:159).

Of course, as Ghassan Hage and others suggest, the use of the term ‘tolerance’ in multicultural discourse implies that those who have the power to profess ‘tolerance’ of difference, also have the power to be ‘intolerant’ when they deem it necessary. As Ritzi Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 177

reports, Australians in general have an ambivalent relationship with ‘Asians’ as the

Other. On the one hand, they are mindful of the economic imperative of building relationships with the Asian nations in our region while on the other hand they are wary of ‘Asians’’ abilities to be able culturally to assimilate to the ‘Australian way of life’ 29 .

Given the inequalities still present in Australian society between those who have the power to profess ‘tolerance’ and those who do not, it is not surprising that racism persists into the twenty-first century.

However, a consideration of some of the adolescent adoptee responses to racism shows how the discourse of multiculturalism allows space for a politics of negotiation.

Josie, for example, talks about how racism has motivated her to form an “anti-racism team”. She says:

I don't think I am as exposed to racist discrimination as perhaps many others are, and I feel lucky that I live in a place where racism is not very common. It is most often Caucasian people, or in my age area - vain, opinionated Caucasian girls and as I said, I'm not often the one being picked on, which is great for me. There have been quite a few cases, however of racism in my school, only just recently. It annoyed me so much I have taken the liberty of starting up the schools anti-racism team, which broke up a few years ago I think. I'm still organising membership and participation things, and I suppose it might be a while before things run as smoothly as I would like them to be, but I was thinking...instead of just complaining all the time and watching as others get harassed, I might as well do something for myself and help others in the same boat in the process. I was quite proud of myself actually. I told my friends and they scoffed and told me I would never do it coz I'm too lazy but, starting next term I'm hoping to turn the school around. Although I do admit, it only needs a little bit of turning, there are only a selected few who have real problems, and I hope I can do something about that, no matter how small the problem is.(Josie –Korean-Australian adoptee - Age 16).

Josie’s attitude to her position of difference is important to consider here. Josie’s belief in her and others’ entitlement to a safe school environment has empowered her to “do something about that, no matter how small the problem” . Similarly Amy, Korean-

Australian adoptee, age 17 speaks about her active resistance to racist discourse. She says:

29 See also Ang’s references to the politics of the ‘Asianisation’ of Australia and the “notion that Australia should become more integrated with its geographical region” which is “one of the master narratives of Australian economic and political discourse” (Ang 2000:12). Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 178

I don't want to sound mean or rude. Yet if people are racist or rude towards myself or my friends or family, I will simply tell them what I think. I hang around different groups now. Wog ,surfies whatever ‘cos I believe it doesn't matter what you look like on the outside but what is more inside. All my experiences I have come across in my life have only made me stronger and a better person. I love my life, SIMPLE!!! (Amy – Korean-Australian – Age 17). Josie and Amy’s defiant attitude to racism appears to mirror Mallika’s childhood response to a racist comment. She says:

I'm not sure anybody would dare sling something so pathetic as a racist remark my way. When I was 10, an 8 year old kid tried to call me a vegemite sandwich as I walked through the playground with two white girls. I clobbered him before he finished his sentence and told him to grow up (Mallika – Sri Lankan-Australian – Age 26).

The adoptees’ refusal to be portrayed as victims reminds me of some dialogue on the

Korean Adoptees Worldwide (KAW) listserv where one Korean-American adoptee wrote to the group in exasperation at the discourse of victimisation which permeated the discussion. She asks her fellow adult Korean adoptees, “ what else do we have to share but sorrow? ” and says:

I'm tired of all the energy expended asking for Koreans, White liberals, , White Christians to acknowledge me, understand me, accept me. WE must take it for ourselves. We don't have a well worn map, so we have to improvise, borrow and steal. Whatever we have to do, we got to own it, because it is ours and always has been.

Adoptees’ resistance to racist discourse plays itself out in a multitude of ways. For some adoptees, resistance means focusing on intercountry adoptees as a unified group which forms part of a broader discourse on marginalised groups of the diaspora 30 . This may mean searching for a true, authentic, singular identity portrayed in

‘returning to roots’ discourse or engaging in a politics of identity centred on the importance of ‘cultural heritage’. For others, resistance may mean a refusal to be placed in essentialist categories such as ‘Korean adoptee’ and an engagement in

30 Ien Ang mentions the “increasing popularity of the term diaspora”. She says “While this term was once reserved as a descriptor for the historical dispersion of Jewish, Greek and Armenian peoples, today it tends to be used much more generically to refer to almost any group living outside its country of origin, be it Italians outside Italy, Africans in the Caribbean, North America or Western Europe, Cubans in Miami and Madrid, , or Chinese all over the world”. Ang goes on to refer to Kachig Tololyan who says “the significant transformation of the last few decades is the move towards re-naming as diasporas…communities of dispersion…which were known by other names until the late 1960s: as exile groups, overseas communities, ethnic and racial minorities and so forth” (Tololyan 1996 in(Ang 2003:142). Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 179

resisting racial categories in their everyday interactions with others. Or it may mean a little of both. While race is still an integral part of the politics of national belonging in

Australia, within the rhetoric of multiculturalism, intercountry adoptees and others now have a multitude of other ways of redefining themselves outside the bounded confines of whiteness.

I have spent much time in this chapter talking about the discourses of assimilation and multiculturalism and how they are intricately linked to ideas about ‘race’, ‘culture’ and nation building. This analysis is important to an understanding of how the discourse of otherness is present in Australian government policy and practices and how such discourse has changed over the last few decades allowing the Other different ways of negotiating difference. But linking adoptee identity construction to ideas about belonging to a nation is only part of the story. Adoptees’ complex and contradictory multiple identities need to be understood at the local level in their membership within various ‘communities’, for example, within the ‘community’ of adoptees or adoptive families, within the youth culture ‘community’, within their neighbourhood, schools and other social and work attachments. They also need to be understood in relation to global influences, within the politics of the diaspora and the myriad of intercultural exchanges which are a part of their hybrid existence.

While I have touched on some of these issues in this chapter they require further exploration in the light of the wealth of literature now available on the contested domains of hybridity, cosmopolitianism and transnational identities. I would like to move the discussion to explore further the different modes of belonging that intercountry adoptees employ. How do other factors, for example, issues such as class, gender, location, disability and levels of social support intersect with issues of racial and cultural identity in the lives of intercountry adoptees? How can the meaning of the term ‘cultural identity’ be broadened to include adoptees’ contemporary modes of belonging as well Discourses on ‘Race’, ‘Culture’ and National Building in Adoptee Narratives 180

as incorporating the historical connections to the place of their birth? What level of social support is needed to enable adoptees to expand their own definition of identity and redefine themselves and the culture of which they are a part?

The next chapter will consider these questions in an attempt to understand better the diverse lived experiences of contemporary intercountry adoptees who are navigating complex identity construction in a global environment of rapid social change.

181

CHAPTER NINE

Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging – Strategies of Resistance in Intercountry Adoptee Narratives.

We live in the paradoxical situation…where hybridity is still seen as a problem or an anomaly despite the fact that it is everywhere, because it is identity that has been privileged as the naturalised principle for social order. Therefore it is the very preoccupation with demarcating the line between ‘Chinese’ and ‘non-Chinese’, ‘Asian’ and ‘Western’, ‘Islam’ and the West – that is, the preoccupation with boundary-setting and boundary-maintenance – that needs to be problematised.

Against such essentialising moves, I wish to conclude by holding up just one hybrid image: that of the Westernised Chinese figure of the banana – ‘yellow outside, white inside’. The figure of the banana is often criticised as ‘not Chinese’ enough, or being ‘too westernised’ – as in the critique of Chinese Canadians or who do not know their ‘roots’. Instead, I would argue that the banana is representative of the porousness of identities and, more importantly, of the fact that all identities evolve and take shape through daily and multiple interrelationships with myriad, differently positioned others (Ang 2003:152).

Ien Ang’s hybrid image of the ‘banana’ promotes an alternative reading for those who are othered. It suggests a strategy of empowerment rather than victimisation and points to other ways of being and belonging. Similarly, an alternative reading of intercountry adoptees’ experiences living with difference allows us to problematise the narrow definition of identity that they are usually subject to. It allows us to consider the way intercountry adoptees and others with ‘hyphenated’ identities such as ‘Chinese-

Australians’ live through issues about authenticity and the essentialism often associated with identity formation.

In this chapter I would like to expand on and illustrate some of the other ways intercountry adoptees have been exposed to what Ang describes as the “preoccupation with boundary setting and boundary maintenance” and how they are both restricted by, as well as being able to move beyond, such boundaries. In the previous chapter I was predominantly concerned with how particular meanings of ‘race’ and ‘culture’ are linked to Australia’s practices of nation-building and in the policies of assimilation and multiculturalism and I touched on how adoptees negotiated such policies. This Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 182

discussion will expand on how adoptees are managing to (re)define their fluid identities by placing their situation in the broader context of culturally diverse young people in

Australia and their membership within broader diasporic movements. Further, I wish to consider how essentialised versions of identity construction often privilege - or at least fail to consider - how ‘race’ intersects with other equally important modes of identification such as class and economic considerations, as well as individuals’ ascription to particular groups based on issues such as age, gender, location, disability, areas of interest and so on.

Wenche Ommundsen in a case study on modes of cultural belonging in the Chinese-

Australian community states that “without arguing that our findings are equally valid for all times, all diasporic populations, or within all national contexts, we claim that the exemplary diversity of the Chinese-Australian community makes it an ideal site in which to examine the variables of cultural belonging” (Ommundsen 2003:182). In a similar way, I wish to argue that the diversity of experiences of the intercountry adoptees in this study illustrates their various ways of belonging as well as the range of

‘imagined communities’ of which they are a part, both within and beyond the nation.

Whilst framing my argument in anti-essentialist terms, however, I am not suggesting that unification around a common area of marginalisation such as ‘ethnicity’ is not completely understandable and necessary in the contemporary global context of deregulated world markets, the inequitable distribution of wealth throughout the world, racial inequality and the increasing numbers of transnational peoples living away from their birth nations. As I mentioned in the previous discussion on the changing nature of racial discourses, particularly powerful meanings about ‘race’ and ‘culture’ continue to have very real effects on the lives of marginalised others – the persistence of racism in contemporary Australia is evidence of the inequitable nature of such discourse. As Ang states: Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 183

No matter how convinced we are theoretically, that identities are constructed not ‘natural’, invented not given, always in process and not fixed, at the level of experience and common sense, identities are generally expressed (and mobilized politically) precisely because they feel natural and essential (Ang 2000:2).

Ang cites Clifford, Hall, and Calhoun (Ang 2000:2) who all appear to caution those who may be too dismissive of identity politics. James Clifford, for example says:

In a Gramscian spirit, effective political strategy begins where people are, rather than where one wishes they were. For better and worse, claims to identity – articulations of ethnic, cultural, gender, and sexual distinction have emerged as things people, across the globe and the social spectrum care about…A more realistic approach would engage in a nondismissive critique of identity politics…post-identity politics rather than anti-identity politics (Clifford 1998:369), see also (Clifford, 2000).

“Where people are, rather than where one wishes they were” is an important consideration in a discussion about adoptees’ varying responses to their position of difference. For some adoptees who have been denied access to information about their birth circumstances and birth culture, claiming an attachment to one’s ‘cultural heritage’ together with other adoptees seems vital to their emotional well-being. For others, identifying primarily as an ‘adoptee’ or as part of a particular ethnic group seems less important. As mentioned in the theoretical discussion in Chapter Four, it is also necessary to consider Werbner’s (1997) reference to Dominguez (1989) who suggests

“that ethnographic writing should focus not on groups but on the process of objectification itself: the way collectivities describe, redescribe and argue over who they are” (Werbner 1997a:229). We also need to be aware of who is doing the labelling and for what political purpose. I will expand on this further on in the chapter. In addition, it seems crucial to understand that while some ‘labels’ or ‘identities’ may feel essential and ‘natural’ for some who are perceived to be in the same cultural group or

‘community’, they may also feel completely ‘unnatural’ to others within the same group.

So can adoptees and adoptive families in Australia be described as a ‘community’?

Why do some adoptees, for example, identify more readily with other ’intercountry adoptees’ as a discrete group while others see the various categories attributed to Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 184

adoptees as somewhat problematic? The discussion in this chapter will attempt to work through such issues by discussing the role of adoptee ‘communities’ in Australia and the broader global diaspora of adoptees by considering some adoptees’ individual accounts of belonging and not belonging to such groups. What are some of the other ways that adoptees articulate their sense of belonging? How can theories about hybridity and transnationalism shed more light on the dynamic nature of adoptee identities? A good place to begin this discussion then, is to consider the notion of

‘community’ as it relates to Australian intercountry adoptees and their families.

Intercountry Adoptee ‘Communities’

The idea of a community of intercountry adoptees in Australia is relatively recent. As discussed in Chapter Seven, discourses about adoption were influenced by the wider

1970s social movements’ emphasis on personal identity. The ‘right to know’ movement created its own form of identity politics influencing adoption dialogue and contributing to significant changes in policy in the decades to follow. For example, in Australia the implementation of the New South Wales Adoption Information Act (1990) which gave rights to information and contact to adoptees and birth relatives, paved the way for the establishment of government funded organisations such as PARC who have provided much needed support for both Australian born and intercountry adoptees. Intercountry

Adoptee Support Network (ICASN), a support network run by adoptees for adoptees however, wasn’t formed until 1998. Lynelle Beveridge, Vietnamese adoptee and founder of ICASN says:

This project (The Colour of Difference book project) had provided my first opportunity to meet other adoptees and I had such an amazing experience that I wanted to replicate it for others. ICASN began with just 37 adoptees. Now, we have over 200 adoptees Australia wide and another 100 adoptees globally. We connect into and share information with other organisations around Australia and the world who have an interest in intercountry adoption. Our support network is provided via volunteers like myself who do what we can to assist adoptees by sharing information and helping them connect/meet each other (ICASN May 2006 eNewsletter).

Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 185

Signe Howell in discussing intercountry adoptive families in Norway states that “in order to be convincing about the reality of a community…one needs to demonstrate the existence of shared experiences, shared emotions, and shared symbols. Other factors, such as shared locality or place, face-to-face interactions over time, are neither necessary nor sufficient, but at times prove highly significant” (Howell 2002:102).

Howell argues that in the Norwegian context, while adoptive parents may be viewed as constituting a community, Norwegian adoptees can not. Referring to Cohen’s (1985) work, The Symbolic Construction of Community , Howell states that “if, minimally, community has to exist in the minds of its members, then there is no community of transnationally adopted people in Norway, although there is one amongst their parents”

(Howell 2002:102). I will return to the idea of a community of adoptive parents further on. For now I wish to compare a Norwegian adoptee network with an Australian one.

In 1997, around the same time as the formation of ICASN in Australia, an organisation called Network of Transnational Adoptees in Norway (NUAN) was formed 31 . Howell suggests that while Sweden formed a similar organisation which “attracted a large membership”, in Norway by “March 2000 there were about eighty members”. She continues that “given that several thousand transnationally adopted people within the age group (18-25) live in Norway, it seems fair to conclude from this that Norwegian transnationally adopted young people do not feel that they constitute a community…The fact of being adopted does not represent a sufficiently important characteristic of their self-perception for them to actively engage with other adopted young people” (Howell 2002:100). But surely for the eighty members of NUAN and the

31 Eleana Kim reports that “Adult Korean adoptees began organizing in a concerted way in Europe, when adoptees formed Adopterade Koreaners Forening (Association of Adopted Koreans) in Stockholm, Sweden in 1986. Adoptees from different European countries also had opportunities to meet each other on government sponsored Motherland tours to Korea and through Korean church organised language programs or meetings. In less than a decade Korean adoptees, some of whom had been inspired by the Swedish example, had established organisations in Norway, Denmark, Belgium, Switzerland, France and the Netherlands. Meanwhile in the US in the late 1980s and early 1990s, small groups of adoptees began to meet informally…(and) since 1994, there have been at least nine Korean-American adoptee organisations in the major cities of the Northwest, the West coast and the Midwest” (from In Third Space www.inthirdspace.net/main.html accessed 26/6/06, an e-magazine by and for transnational adoptees) (Kim 2006). Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 186

200 or more members of ICASN the fact of their adoption is a “sufficiently important characteristic of their self-perception” to warrant joining such a support network. I would prefer to ask questions about why, and at which particular moments, such organisations appear important to some adoptees but not to others. To return to

Werbner’s suggestion, we need to be aware about the importance of the process , “the way collectivities describe, redescribe and argue over who they are” (Werbner

1997a:229).

The adoptees in my study who are actively involved in ICASN 32 or similar organisations appear to have at least one thing in common (apart from being adopted). That is, they all report feeling either racially isolated in their youth or having no/little knowledge about their birth family and country of birth until they reached adulthood - or all of these things. Feelings of ‘not belonging’ at various times throughout their childhood and adolescent years both within their family unit and within the nation also seem to be reasonably consistent amongst this group. However, we can never view this group or any other less formal adoptee groups as homogeneous or as somehow fixed in time - group membership, ideals and boundaries are fluid. As Anthony Cohen states, “people are associated with each other now only for limited purposes or in limited respects”

(Cohen 2002:168). It is, “the lack of homogeneity (which) is the character of Western life” and community “has become a way of designating that some thing is shared among a group of people at a time when we no longer assume that anything is necessarily shared” (Cohen 2002:169).

Perhaps, rather than considering whether a particular group of people can be described as a ‘community’, we should reflect on the different ways that people choose to join with others who they believe share areas of commonality and the way localised

32 Eight of the eleven adoptees in the older group report being members of ICASN. In the younger group of nine, only two (Linnea and David) report becoming actively involved in an adoptee support group. Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 187

groups link with broader diasporic movements. Some intercountry adoptees now have access to other global organisations of adoptees (as well as other diasporic groups) through email lists, websites, adoptee conferences and organisations which have been formed by adoptees, adoptive parents and members of first, second and subsequent generations of immigrants within adoptive countries and birth countries 33. They can communicate with each other across political, geographical and social boundaries

“both virtually and physically” (Cohen 2002:169) by access to technology and travel options not available to most of Australia’s first intercountry adoptees until they reached adulthood. Such intercultural exchanges and liaisons expose the fragility of essentialised identities and blur national, ‘ethnic’ and geographical boundaries at the same moment as they raise questions about cultural authenticity. As mentioned previously, intercountry adoptees are particularly exposed to questions about authenticity, for example, questions about whether they ‘really’ belong within their adoptive family and within their adoptive nation despite their status as citizens and to what extent they identify ‘ethnically’ as ‘Korean’, ‘Vietnamese’, ‘Sri Lankan’ or

‘Malaysian’ for example. I will attempt in the following section to discuss ways in which some adoptees negotiate such issues in the Australian context.

33 In the Korean-American context for example, KAAN (Korean Adoptee Adoptive Family Network) aim is “to network groups and individuals related to Korean adoptions…The network facilitates dialogue, promotes resource sharing, and disseminates information. KAAN works closely with the Korean Adoption Community, the Korean American community, and the Korean government to promote awareness of Korean adoption issues and develop programs that will benefit both the adoption and Korean communities. In its role as an open forum, KAAN distributes a newsletter to email addresses around the world”. http://www.kaanet.com. Based In Seoul, South Korea, “G.O.A.'L is a registered non-profit, non-governmental adoptee organization founded by overseas adopted Koreans in 1998. Beginning as a network to assist overseas Korean adoptees returning to Korea to access Korean society by bridging barriers of language and culture, G.O.A.'L has worked tirelessly to educate, create a voice for and increase recognition of overseas adopted Koreans in their homeland through lobbying the Korean government, organizing an annual conference addressing adoption-related issues, publishing a regular bi-lingual newsletter and coordinating public education, networking & social events”. www.goal.or.kr. In 2003, KoRoot, a non-profit guesthouse and support service for returning adoptees was established. KoRoot’s website states that they “support adoptees by offering courses in Korean culture and language, helping with birthparent searches, and providing interpretation and counselling services following reunions. KoRoot facilitates the interaction and mutual understanding between overseas international adoptees and the Korean community. Our events are run by both Korean and adoptee volunteers and include dinners, seminars, workshops, and trips around Korea. www.koroot.org. In the Vietnamese context, Adopted Vietnamese International was founded by a Vietnamese-Australian adoptee on the 25 th Anniversary of Operation Babylift, April 30 2000. The website states that AVI “sets out to offer a 'home' away from home (and 'homeland') for adopted Vietnamese to get to know each other and exchange their ideas…AVI also offers a place/space for adoptees to invite former Operation Babylift volunteers, overseas Vietnamese, adoptive parents, Viet Nam Veterans, war journalists and academics to come and get to know us on our own terms. What is meant by this is that while we adoptees were once a quiet migration of orphaned infants and children, we are now speaking, knowledgeable and expressive young adults. Our experiences, as adoptees, are unusual and can provide new insights on matters relating to place, culture and identity - so we welcome two- way dialogues on these and a range of other interesting and timely subjects. This process of exchange has, and continues to be a constructive, supportive and overall, celebratory one”. www.adoptedvietnamese.org Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 188

(In)Authentic Adoptee Identities in Transition

Within the discourse of identity where “knowledge of (a) unique biological and social history constitutes the ‘identity’ of the individual” (Yngvesson 2000:87), where ‘identity’ is often reduced to ‘racial’ and ‘ethnic’ categories, where one’s ‘cultural heritage’ is believed to be of more significance to an individual’s positive sense of self than one’s contemporary sense of belonging, intercountry adoptees may be seen to be particularly subject to questions about (in)authenticity. But then so are other transnational groups which form part of the broader diaspora. As Hall states:

Everywhere, cultural identities are emerging which are not fixed, but poised, in transition, between different positions; which draw on different cultural traditions at the same time; and which are the product of those complicated cross-overs and cultural mixes which are increasingly common in a globalised world (Hall 1992:310).

The pertinent question seems to be how individuals and particular groups within the diaspora negotiate and articulate their varying positions in relation to issues of authenticity and belonging. Wenche Ommundsen in her discussion of the Chinese diaspora in Australia spoke about some participants in her case study who regard

“diasporic membership as an optional matter: an individual or group may choose whether or not to identify with, and actively cultivate, the hua ren community. They may regard this as an essential aspect of their personal make-up, or incidental, to be picked up or discarded as they see fit” (Ommundsen 2003:196). Similarly, a consideration of individual adoptee accounts suggests differences in the intensity of feelings and choices made about connecting with an ‘adoptee community’ or establishing connections with people of their ‘ethnic’ background. And these feelings vary in importance throughout an individuals’ life related to such things as particular life events, locations, relationships and life stages. I wish to elaborate on this and also consider some of the other ways in which intercountry adoptees work through issues of belonging as the chapter progresses.

Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 189

In the previous chapter I considered dialogue between some American and Australian transracial adoptees about how they felt about being an ‘adoptee’. Other conversations between some American adoptees have also shed light on how individual members of such groups ‘argue over who they are’. For example, a discussion on KAW (Korean adoptees worldwide) pointed to some adoptees resisting the dominant ‘returning to roots’ discourse and the pressure to feel that they should explore their “Koreanness”. A

Korean-American adoptee stated:

I can only speak for myself and will be painfully honest. I know when I read someone else telling me about moving to Korea and having a re-connection to their roots, I feel guilty. And then resentful of my guilt. That's just the struggle that I feel and maybe some of you feel also. I react to the idea that I SHOULD want to reconnect with my "Koreanness" while at the same time I am quite happy with my life as it is and don't like to feel guilty about my "Americanness" (Korean-American adoptee, KAW listserv).

Another adoptee replied:

I'm going to chime in here...I kinda know how you feel. I do not have any great need to connect to my Koreanness, although I am happy for those KADS who do and are able to connect. However, instead of felling guilty for not wanting to connect, I feel annoyed when it seems like other KADs are telling me I must connect, or there's something wrong with me if I don't. Usually this happens when people assume I care about going to Korea or learning Korean or that I frequent Korean restaurants.

I suspect half the time it's just other people not thinking, and the other half people feeling insecure about their own Koreanness that they project onto me. That is, they're insecure about their lack of Koreanness, so they get really into being Korean and then push that attitude onto others. So, I guess to you I'd say, don't feel bad - you're not the only one!!

The extent to which individual adoptees choose to explore their “Koreanness” or

“Vietnameseness”, for example, varies considerably even though the contemporary dominant discourse about the importance of identifying with ‘your roots’ remains constant. The abovementioned adoptees reflections about feeling pressured to conform to a particular image of a ‘Korean adoptee’ is also consistent with some

Australian adoptees’ feelings. For example, I mentioned Josie’s attitudes to her position of difference in the previous chapter. In relation to issues of racial difference, Josie spoke about the different youth groups in her school and community and how she primarily identifies as an Australian teenager. However, like the abovementioned Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 190

American adoptees’ reflections on the way their “Americanness” is challenged by other adoptees, Josie also seems to question whether her feelings about being Australian are somehow ‘inauthentic’ in the current climate of needing to know ‘your roots’. She says:

In the community, there are a lot of multicultural people, it seems as though people of the same background stick together. All the Asian girls dress 'differently' with their long skirts, and cutesy folders and plush toys and the guys have their hair bleached to an orangey colour. So, in a place and time where looks seem to be so important, and fitting in is a must, it's the smart, different people which seem to be an easy target for the hardcore, attitude filled, fashion victims.

I know because I see it every day, and even though I feel indirectly discriminated against I think I'm too 'Australian' to be complaining so much, or something like that. Too well adjusted, which is kind of scary sometimes because I seem to forget I am Asian. And I don't think that is supposed to happen.

At the same moment that “Asian girls” in Josie’s community are being targeted for dressing differently, Josie questions whether she may be “too Australian” and “too well adjusted” because she does not feel victimised. While she may appear to be ambiguous about being “Asian”, she also appears to pity the Caucasian perpetrators described as “hardcore, attitude filled fashion victims”. It would seem that Josie’s status as a ‘Korean adoptee’ is just one aspect of her complex identity and her primary identification at this time as an Australian adolescent is shown in the following dialogue:

I consider myself to be a normal teenager, [I hope, normal compared to the immediate teen population around me] I go to the movies, bug my parents for money, talk on the phone, complain about school and I LOVE T.V. I honestly couldn't live without it.

Similarly, for Amy, whom I featured in Chapter Seven on discourses of adoption, ‘fitting in’ with her teenage peers is very important. Amy spoke about not seeing herself as

“anything different” and “having better things to worry about, like teenagers do” other than focussing on being adopted. She mentioned a number of times about her parents’ encouragement to learn more about her birthplace and her decision, at this particular point in time, to show no interest in Korea. She says: Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 191

Mum and Dad did try to teach me about my birth background but I just didn't seem to want to know. I don't know if it was because I didn't want to face the reality that I was different or that I was just comfortable with my life as it was…I still to this day have no interest in Korea and doubt very much that I will in future years. I am Australian. My lifestyle, the way I speak (including slang and all), the way I dress, I'm just plain Aussie.

By contrast, Min Kyung, another Korean-Australian adolescent whom I introduced in

Chapter Five on travelling back to Korea, talked about identifying as an Australian adolescent but also being “proud of being Korean”. Like Josie, Min Kyung spoke about her multicultural school. She says:

My school is very multicultural and mostly full of Asians...so there has never been a problem at school. I am very proud of being Korean…my best friend was born in Australia, her Mum was born in Hong Kong and her Dad was born in Malaysia. She speaks very little Cantonese but her parents are fluent in Mandarin, Cantonese and some other Chinese languages.

Min Kyung compares her ‘Koreanness’, with her friend’s ‘Chineseness’ – but their

‘ethnic’ identities appear as partial and hybridised, that is, Min Kyung appears to identify as Korean-Australian and her friend as Chinese-Malay-Australian, but this identification is not always their primary mode of belonging. Rather, as some youth culture researchers suggest, youth identities are constructed through consumption patterns as well as being “classed, ‘raced’ and gendered” (Butcher and Thomas

2003b:18), see also (Noble et al 1999). Josie, Amy and Min Kyung’s dialogue about the importance of fashion, TV and “fitting in” with particular consumerist images is consistent with Melissa Butcher’s and Mandy Thomas’s work on emerging youth cultures in urban Australia. They suggest that “youth culture is highly aural and visual, connected to display and performance (and) it radiates an image of how and where a young person wants to be seen, or which group they belong” (Butcher and Thomas

2003a:31). Butcher and Thomas believe migrant youth are contributing “to an emergent and evolving popular culture in Australia, always with significant cultural borrowings and evocations”. These hybrid cultural expressions are particularly visible in the consumption and construction of popular culture shown in fashion, music and other forms of leisure which “reveal a rich variety of influences and borrowings, ranging from Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 192

African-American street culture (language and dress) to the influence of their cultural background and global and local mainstream youth culture” (Butcher and Thomas

2003a:42).

Intercountry identities, like other postcolonial identities are, as Hall (1992, 1990) and

Bhabha (1990) describe, forever in transition - they are cultural hybrids. Hall says that while “it may be tempting to think of identity in the age of globalisation as destined to end up in one place or another: either returning to its ‘roots’ or disappearing through assimilation and homogenization…there is another possibility: that of ‘Translation’ (Hall

1992:310). Bhabha believes that “the act of cultural translation (both as representation and reproduction) denies the essentialism of a prior given original or originary culture” and sees “all forms of culture (as) continually in a process of hybridity” (Bhabha

1990:211). Bhabha continues:

But for me the importance of hybridity is not to be able to trace two original moments from which the third emerges, rather hybridity to me is the ‘third space’ which enables other positions to emerge. This ‘third space’ displaces the histories that constitute it, and sets up new structures of authority, new political initiatives, which are inadequately understood through received wisdom (Bhabha 1990:211).

Intercountry adoptees inhabit this ‘third space’ – through their membership in various youth sub-cultures and their interracial families, they are (re)inventing and (re)writing identity positions. Rather than being ‘stuck between two cultures’, as popular images of intercountry adoptees and others suggest, the fluid nature of their identities means that their various modes of belonging intersect with their ‘ethnicity’ which fluctuates in importance depending on particular circumstances and contexts. For example, Min

Kyung and her Chinese-Malay- Australian (non-adopted) friend both inhabit the ‘third space’ and speak “very little” of the language of their ‘roots’. However, at this time, in this space and place, this does not appear to be constructed by them as a lack or as Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 193

somehow inauthentic 34 . Rather Min Kyung appears celebratory in discussing the complexities of her life highlighting the things her hybrid position allows her to do rather than the things she can’t.

I discussed in a previous chapter Min’s thoughts on the importance of her parents’ support in how she feels about being adopted. Like most of the other adolescents mentioned, Min mentioned her parents’ encouragement to learn the Korean language, travelling with her to Korea and supporting her choices about not wanting to meet her birthparents at this time. But equally important in her overall identity construction seem to be her relationships with friends and peer groups and the way they contribute to her positive sense of self. She says:

My friends are also a big help, none of them really ask about it (adoption), I guess I wouldn't mind if they did, they just treat me as normal, my other Korean friends help as well, I guess because I never feel out of place even with all my other friends, ‘cause they are all Asian like me.

Min also spoke about how participating in sport, particularly how her success in gymnastics and the different group of mostly Caucasian friends she made there,

“helped me to find my identity and helped me to realise the good things about myself”.

At the time of my interviews with Min Kyung, she identified as an Australian adolescent, daughter, sister, friend, gymnast, student, Korean, Asian and adoptee amongst other things. Some two years after my first email correspondence with Min I contacted her again and discovered that she was studying at University which has opened up another group of social contacts. I have elaborated on Min Kyung’s situation as a way to

34 In some other circumstances it may indeed be seen as ‘a lack’. Kibria’s study of transnationalism amongst second- generation Chinese and Korean-Americans suggests the uncertainty some participants felt about their membership and belonging to ‘Chinese-ness’ or ‘Korean-ness’ because they did not speak the language. In these cases, rather than their ethnicity being marked by language or religion participants spoke about a “primordial core or essence” which they had been exposed to through Korean or Chinese language schools, church programs and their immigrant parents(Kabria 2002:300). This shows similarities with some of the older adoptees’ quest for an essential, original ‘cultural identity’ which is different from the adolescent adoptees who spoke of their hybridised identities – their ethnicity is seen as just a part of who they are. Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 194

explain the numerous social groups and settings which impact on her identity construction beyond notions of ‘ethnic’ categories.

Greg Noble et al, in a study of male Arabic-speaking youth in south-western Sydney describes their constructions of ethnic identity as moving between “strategic essentialism 35 – the assertion of the given-ness of their ethnicity – and a strategic hybridity – the mixing, in often contradictory ways, of elements of identification drawn from their parents’ cultural background and their participation in Australian society”

(Noble 1999:29). Noble’s study suggests the conscious way in which youth articulate their ethnic allegiance and how this is related to anchoring “a sense of self in the flux around identity and values in a globalised world” (Noble 1999:17). Identification with the group’s ‘Lebanese-ness’ “is secured only by positioning ethnic identification against other groups’ differences, for example against the mythic notions of ‘Asianness’, depicted by such things as ‘Asians’ being ‘smart’. But at other moments ethnicity takes on a much more hybrid form where language, food and behaviours suggest the merging of complex identity positions employed strategically dependent on the “time, place and person doing the asking” (Butcher and Thomas 2003a:39). The adolescent adoptees’ examples described seem to suggest moments of strategic hybridity in identity construction related to particular contexts. For example, Josie’s identification as a more “Australianised” Asian than the other ‘Asian’ girls in her school community as well as her distaste of the “attitude filled, fashion victims” positions her in the third space – a reconstructed and reinvented Australian. It would seem that public displays of cultural identification are usually related to how secure young people feel within their local community as well as within broader national and global circumstances and

35 Noble etal are using Spivak’s ideas about ‘strategic essentialism’ (Spivak 1987:205), “the articulation of an irreducible otherness, which is operationalised primarily for the critical speaking position it offers minority intellectuals (which also) has wider applicability to the everyday practices of marginalised groups” (Noble 1999:31). Thomas also employs Spivak’s ideas when she suggests that “children of Vietnamese parents comment that they identify with being Vietnamese at various moments…as a point of political articulation, and can be interpreted as a strategy for positive self-definition” (Thomas 1999:186). Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 195

contexts. While Josie and some of the younger adoptees seem to generally feel secure within their neighbourhoods and their interracial families, some other adoptees have tended to display moments of strategic essentialism to better cope with their feelings of marginality. The significance of place is therefore worthy of further analysis.

Belonging and Place

I think it’s amazing when I hear of adoptees who choose to stay in lily-white back waters. The larger cities that have good sized Korean-American populations seem to offer the best environment. I guess that's why so many KAds (Korean adoptees) do end up in the bigger cities, at least in the U.S. I realized while working and making friends (and enemies) in the KA (Korean American) community that there's a continuum of Korean American identity and KAds fit into it nicely. I know FOB (Fresh off Boat) kids who call me "noona" and barely speak English and only socialize with other FOBby kids and have friends who are as Korean fluent as me (that is to say, they aren't). The KA community is definitely conservative and some don't "get it" either but there's still so much more that I can share with them than with my non-Korean friends. And because the people that I choose to be friends with are genuinely nice people, they usually remember to clue me in if they think that I won't get something. In fact as 1/5 and 2nd generation KA's a lot of the time they have to ask for their own benefit too. And like me, they don't feel 100% comfortable in Korea and never will (Korean American adoptee – KAW List - Sept 2003).

The Korean-American adoptees’ dialogue about adoptees moving from white dominated regional centres to more multiculturally diverse city centres is consistent with the majority of older adoptees in this study. Some, like the Korean-American adoptee above, are also negotiating their space within broader migrant communities in their adopted country and becoming aware of the ways in which their ‘third space’ is shared with other hybridised individuals and groups. They are actively engaged in the reconstruction of elements of their birth culture through hybridised forms of popular culture. For example, Dom, a Vietnamese-Australian adoptee moved to from a small country town and became involved in the arts community. Dom’s projects have included a theatre production called ‘Viet-boys’ where he addresses the diversity of Vietnamese experience in Melbourne exploring questions of identity, sexuality, violence and depression in Vietnamese youth culture. He says “I’ve become more

Aussie-Vietnamese/Chinese (due to) degrees of popular culture”. Dom has managed to reinvent his place within Melbourne’s diverse modes of popular culture, a world away Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 196

from his isolated childhood and adolescence where he was expected “to assimilate or die”.

Dom’s childhood shows similarities and differences to another younger adoptee, David who spent his childhood in a different decade to Dom but also lived in a fairly racially monocultural environment with non-adopted white siblings and struggled with issues of racial difference and sometimes extreme forms of racism. However, unlike Dom, David has returned to his birth country in his youth with his parents on a number of occasions and spoke about the significance of meeting members of his birth family to his ongoing identity construction. He returned from Korea with a passion for Korean youth culture, particularly the music 36 but found that his peer group did not share his interest in all things Korean so once again he struggled to be accepted. His mother spoke about his decision to change schools. She says:

David has started a new school for years 11 and 12 where there is a large group of Korean students. He has joined their group and is becoming very Korean. It is good for him and he seems happy but its early days yet. Maybe one day he will be able to balance both cultures.

To better cope with his feelings of marginality, David has moments of strategically essentialising his Korean ‘ethnicity’ to feel a sense of belonging with other Korean-

Australians. My last correspondence with David and his mother took place in 2003.

Since that time David has become a youth representative in ICASN and appeared with his father on the Insight programme on SBS TV, Tuesday 28 March 2006. The programme presented a forum of people involved in the intercountry adoption community in Australia and included adoptees, adoptive parents, social workers and others working in the field. David spoke confidently and positively at this time about his adoption experience despite the difficulties associated with his adolescent years. The support he had received from family and other adoptees as well as greater exposure to

36 The other Korean adolescents who have visited their birth country also spoke about their enjoyment of Korean pop music. Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 197

others who also inhabit ‘third space’ positions has obviously contributed to a greater sense of belonging than previously experienced.

It is important to point out at this stage then, that an adoptees’ sense of belonging to his/her local community (and nation) is not only related to the existence of racial and cultural diversity within that community. The significance of place needs to incorporate the importance of peer groups, family, the availability of other support systems and the way they change over time. Consider for example the situation of Jon who, in contrast to David, has spent his youth in a somewhat more culturally diverse area but spends most of his spare time with his three Caucasian friends. He says:

There are lot of students at our school who are from other countries ranging from India, China, Korea, Greece, America, Malaysia, Lebanon, Samoa, Africa and New Zealand, but I am the only Korean in my school, I think.

I don't get teased about being Korean very often and I don't care most of the time because I do take a lot of pride in Korean culture. I think that it is a unique culture. Also the only type of people at school that do tease me are the teeny boppers. Friends and other people ask me what it is like to go overseas because they have never been and they like to know, so that shows me that some people care.

In a similar way to Min Kyung, Josie and Amy, Jon discussed the different sub-groups within the youth culture of his school and local community. He elaborated a little on the girl group he called the “teeny boppers” who occasionally teased him:

Okay, the teeny boppers are a group made up of at least 15 people (at our school) and they are the type of people who listen to the most unpopular types of music which mostly consist of all boy bands like backstreet boys or NSYNC. They also dress exactly the same e.g same hair style, same jeans, same shoes or the same school bag. Also they think that all of the guys like them when they don't, and they act strange around some of us. Although I don't get teased by them very often, maybe once every 3 weeks or so, but what they say I don't really care about because some of the things that they say is what a 6 year old would say.

Like the other adolescents, Jon spoke about the importance of his friends in maintaining a positive sense of self – “we usually rollerblade at the skate park or at our school with the principal's permission, or we go see a movie at our shopping centre” – and mentioned that his best friend (white, non-adopted) attends Korean classes with Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 198

him and “is like a member of our family”. Jon suggested that his friend “is jealous because I have a different culture to enjoy, and he hasn't. After he came with us to the

Saet Byol camp (my friend) told my Mum that he wished he was adopted too”. Once again, Jon does not see his adoptee status or his “Koreanness” as a lack but rather something to be proud of. The dialogue between Jon and his friend reminded me of a

(non-adopted) Vietnamese-American’s reflections (in Journey of Youth – writings for the generations living and growing up overseas ) on the changing cultural meanings attached to hyphenated identities. Andrew Lam says:

To have a hyphen connected to your identity makes you feel cosmopolitan and sophisticated, a bridge to some other place…this is a recent phenomenon. Before the idea of a melting pot was still the aim, at least by the institutions. But now it’s chic to be ethnic, to speak another language, to feel connected to another culture, to another set of values, to a sensibility. It’s a post-modern age where options are far more available than they were to someone who lived in American in the mid 20 th century. And far more individualistic. You pick and choose.” (Duc 2004:212).

It is indeed true that ‘options’ and opportunities “to speak another language” or “to feel connected to another culture” are much more accessible than in previous decades.

This is evident in the vastly different opportunities most of the younger adoptees in this study enjoyed when compared to the majority of the older adoptees. In a similar way,

Ien Ang, in her book On Not Speaking Chinese , describes herself as “an ethnic

Chinese, Indonesian-born and European educated academic” who spent her formative years in the Netherlands and like other postcolonial immigrants prior to the 1970s her family, “diligently pursued their own assimilation into the dominant culture of the modern West” (Ang 2001:9). Now in the contemporary Australian multicultural context,

Ang (also referring to Gayatri Spivak’s notion of ‘strategic essentialism’), is highlighting her ability strategically to claim her Chinese ethnicity within specific contexts when she states, “if I am inescapably Chinese by descent , I am only sometimes Chinese by consent ” (Ang 2001:36).

Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 199

But it also seems clear from the diversity of adoptee and other experiences that the extent to which an individual can “pick and choose” is not only dependent on historical specificity but must also take into account other social, cultural, political and personal circumstances as well as access to appropriate support. As Phil Cohen suggests,

“adolescents need access to appropriate youth cultures, in which the play of identity and difference is sufficiently rich and varied to enable them to explore the elements of their dual heritage, and find their own individual niche…subculture styles may provide a medium in which the drive for purified identities is tempered by a playful bricolage of elements drawn from a diversity of sources” (Cohen 1994:72). Within the group of younger adoptees, most have had access to a variety of subculture styles, however, one adoptee stands out as being very different from the rest of the group in relation to access to appropriate support from other youth, family and local community.

I briefly introduced Melody in the chapter on ‘Travelling Back’. Melody, age 20, spent her youth on the Central Coast of New South Wales in a large family of non-adopted and adopted siblings but does not report experiencing a supportive family environment.

She attended “a middle-sized school (which was classified as disadvantaged)…where my brother and I were pretty much the only Asians in the school (or so it seemed)”.

Melody experienced considerable racism throughout her school years where there were “kids being cruel and unrelenting”. She describes one group in particular as “the usual low achievers, to use a euphemism, who were VERY racist” and called her names like “monkey” and “chink”. She described how her experiences of racism have impacted on her life:

A little while ago I was quite scared about racism. I used to believe that anyone who hadn't spoken to me was racist. I mean strangers, I was scared to meet people in case they were racist and said something to me, which is highly unlikely, but that didn't stop me thinking that. I was always relieved when someone spoke to me and I realised that they weren't racist. I still feel this way, but not as strongly as I used to. I still get scared when I am meeting new people. I had a couple of 'depressive' bouts in year 11 and 12, and both occurred at rather unfortunate times, when I was doing my HSC trials and when I moved out of home halfway during year 11. Maybe the stress of school made me depressed. Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 200

Melody also experienced a great deal of parental conflict in her home and at sixteen, at around the same time that her parents separated, she moved away to live with a friend’s family. She spoke about her relationship with her mother:

I think a large part of our invisible 'disconnection' is the generation gap. My mum is from a conservative background and my parents were very strict. I wouldn't be allowed to go out with friends or stay at their places, even when I was in year 11. I have never had the type of relationship with my mum where I could freely talk to her, and it wasn't until I was living with my best friend that I realised how close a mother and daughter can be. My friend and her sister and mum were all really close, and they would talk to their mum about anything. I saw what I was missing, and I still think of what I am missing.

Melody has experienced considerable losses in her life with little social support. She struggled to be accepted at school and did not have a supportive peer group, effective bullying programmes or adequate teacher support to cope with the significant racism and isolation she experienced. In addition, her home life was sometimes tumultuous leading into her parent’s separation. She has, however, in recent times found some sense of belonging with a group of young people who share her love of music and attending gigs (live music shows). Melody also mentioned her recent friendship with some other adoptees. She writes:

At this stage in my life I would say I identify most with a friend I have via e-mail, who I have known for a little over 2 years. She is from America and also adopted from Korea, and I met her by quite a coincidence. Many things she has said I can strongly relate to. I haven't met anyone who I feel so connected to, and when I read her e-mails, I sometimes feel like I am reading something that I have said or that I have written in my journal.

For the first time last week I spoke to a Korean adoptee (not in the family), and it was a very nice experience. I felt extremely connected to him and felt like he actually understood me on a deeper level than anyone else.

Melody also describes feeling “less vulnerable” now that she is studying at University because she believes “university people are often more open minded and willing to accept people who are ‘different’”. However, Melody’s life experiences which have included significant racisms, dislocation from her adoptive family and no real sense of belonging to a supportive peer group have left her feeling socially vulnerable. Her hybrid status, far from being an empowering construct as is the case for some of the Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 201

other young adoptees, has actually caused her considerable grief throughout her youth. It is worthwhile at this point to consider the impact of identifying as a member of an interracial family on an adoptee’s sense of self.

Societal expectations in relation to adoptive parenting have changed significantly in the decades since the first intercountry adoptees arrived in the 1970s and while some adoptees like Melody may have felt disconnected from their adoptive family at particular times, most of the other younger adoptees (and some of the older adoptees) point to the supportive nature of their families particularly in the way they were enabled and encouraged to explore their hybrid positions. Adoptive families are not unlike some other interracial families who have also been exposed to varying discourses about the importance of racial and cultural identity. I would like to explore the significance of

‘cultural identity’ politics on parenting trends and how this impacts on some adoptees’ experiences of living with difference in the contemporary context.

Belonging, Cultural Identity and Interracial Families

Anne Wilson, in her study of ‘mixed race’ 37 children in British society suggests that “in

British and American sociological literature, mixed race people have often been described as occupying a ‘marginal’ or an ‘in-between’ position, from which they can only escape by adopting full membership of either the black or the white group” (Wilson

1984:42). Wilson traces the historical construction of ‘mixed-race’ people as ‘marginal’ referring to American sociological studies in the 1920s and 30s (Stonequist 1937).

Such theorists believed that people who are ‘mixed race’ are “caught in the cross-fire of racial conflict, they can find full acceptance neither with the white nor the black group

37 Wilson clarifies her use of the word ‘mixed-race” by saying “that the use of the term…is in no way meant to endorse the idea that biological races are, or have ever been, ‘pure’, the sense of an endogamous group of people drawing again and again from one gene pool. The children referred to in the title are British children who have one parent from what UNESCO scientists agreed to call the ‘Negroid race’ and one from the ‘Caucasian race’, these being arbitrary divisions along a continuum of combinations of particular physical characteristics. In fact, ‘mixed race’ is meaningless as a category, since all humans are of mixed ancestry: biologically speaking, one may only say that such children are the offspring of a union between two people located at widely divergent points on a scale of somatic ‘racial characteristics (hair type, skin colour, etc) (Wilson 1984:43). Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 202

even though ‘in theory’ they belong to both” (Wilson 1984:46) 38 . Wilson argued that the perception of ‘mixed-race’ children as problematic was clearly in need of revision given that some interracial families appeared to be able to assist in the development of a positive ‘mixed race’ identity by being culturally and racially aware, by not denying the existence of racism and by being enthusiastic about the child’s dual identities.

In the Australian context, social theorists such as Luke and Luke (1998,1999) and

Bolatagici (2004) have also considered the way ‘mixed-race’ individuals and families have been theorised. They have attempted to move beyond the dichotomy of either/or essentialised identities to consider in-between, hyphenated positions in an effort to

“resist the tragic narrative” and “claim the ‘in-between’ as a liberating location of progressive resistance” (Bolatagici 2004:75).

Wilson, Luke and Luke and Bolatagici’s ideas on the way ‘mixed-race’ people have been portrayed show similarities to the way intercountry adoptee identities have sometimes been socially constructed in the literature. Like Wilson, Tizard and Phoenix

(1994) in their study of Black Identity and Transracial Adoption also refer to the significant influence that Stonequist and other theorists had on the Black consciousness movements of the 1960s and 70s. They suggest that Stonequist believed that the “turmoil, pain and confusion arising from this conflict may be lifelong, unless peace of mind is found by assimilating with the black group” (Tizard 1994:93).

Tizard and Phoenix continue, that “although another sociologist (Park 1937) stressed that there is a positive aspect to marginality, in that it provides insight into two

38 Australian social theorists, Luke and Luke (1998,1999) discuss the history of theorising ‘interracialism’ in American social psychology literature. They highlight the focus of such studies on “individuals’ sense of ‘lack’, displacement and ‘between-ness’, relying on quantification of demographic and questionnaire data”. They suggest that Australian research by contrast “has its disciplinary basis in social demography” with its “conceptual focus on ethnic and cultural identity…and focus on birthplace as indicator of ethnic identity and/or racial ancestory” (Luke 1998:730; Luke 1999). Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 203

communities, the negative view has been much more often heard” (Tizard 1994:93) 39 .

Transracial adoption has also been controversial in this regard. White adoptive parents have been targeted by anti-adoption campaigners as well as some policy makers as being unable to provide the skills required for their children to acquire a ‘positive racial identity’ or assist their children to cope with racism. This position was primarily articulated by the Association of Black Social Workers and Allied Professionals

(ABSWAP) in 1980s Britain who challenged “customary practices which had long characterised the British adoption scene” and “were for the first time defined and challenged as racist”. ABSWAP “drew on elements from both new and old models of adoption and subsumed them within an anti-racist perspective whose rhetorics initially owed most to the language of black cultural nationalism and Pan-Africanism imported from the USA” (Cohen 1994:60). Cohen goes on to suggest that “this provided a useful formula for exploiting residual white liberal guilt in the social work establishment”

(Cohen 1994:60).

However, the importance of acquiring a ‘positive racial identity’ as a way postcolonial

‘others’ can resist colonialist and paternalistic ideologies in official and popular discourse has also played a significant role in the racial and cultural identity debates surrounding intercountry adoption in Australia. In particular, the forcible removal of

Aboriginal children from their parents, extended families and communities shown in the

Human Rights an Equal Opportunities Commission Report (1997), Bringing Them

Home: National Inquiry into the Separation of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander

Children from their Families, had a considerable impact on intercountry adoption policy

(Human Rights and Equal Opportunities Commission 1997). In an effort to counter past paternalistic and racist practices, policy makers and government welfare departments

39 Wilson also refers to Seeman (1956), Turner (1964) and Gist and Dworkin (1972) who argue that an ambiguous social position may indeed be a positive experience, that there are enormous variations in the positions ‘mixed’ groups occupy and that it is unwise “to over-simplify the relationship between a marginal social position and the personal experience of problems of identity” (Wilson 1984:48-49). Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 204

have significantly elevated the importance of ‘cultural identity’ in adoption placements.

For example, a review of the Adoption of Children Act 1965 (NSW) compiled by the

NSW Law Reform Commission in 1997 states that “the child’s right to permanent care must be reconciled with the clear value of cultural continuity” 40 (New South Wales Law

Reform Commission 1997:318). The report goes on to outline a “hierarchy of options” 41 for placement which it justifies by stating that “there is already in place in relation to placements of Aboriginal children into foster care an Aboriginal Child Placement

Principle, which seeks to provide, where possible, for continuity in the child’s cultural heritage” (New South Wales Law Reform Commission 1997:319). After some public consultation which produced concern from some non-government adoption support groups about the unworkable and inequitable nature 42 of the proposed legislation, the

“hierarchy of options” was amended. The NSW Adoption Act 2000, Section 32 now states:

32. Regard to be had to cultural heritage of child

(1) In placing a child (other than an Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander child) for adoption, the decision maker must take into account the culture, any disability, language and religion of the child and the principle that the child’s given name, identity, language and cultural and religious ties should, as far as possible, be preserved.

(2) Without limiting matters that may be taken into account, the decision maker must take into account whether a prospective adoptive parent of a different cultural heritage to that of the child has demonstrated the following:

40 The Law Reform Commission refers to the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child (UNCROC) which states in Article 20 “that when considering solutions for care of children without family, including the option of adoption: ‘due regard shall be paid to the desirability of continuity in a child’s upbringing and to the child’s ethnic, religious, cultural and linguistic background’” (NSW Law Reform Commission 1997:296). 41 The proposed “hierarchy of options” states that “when a child in need of permanent care is to be placed outside his or her birth family, then the order for priority of placement should be: 1. with an applicant or applicants of the same cultural heritage as the child 2. with an applicant or applicants of a similar or compatible cultural heritage as the child 3. with an applicant or applicants of a different cultural heritage from the child who has demonstrated: • the capacity to assist the child to develop a healthy and positive cultural identity • a willingness to learn about and teach the child about his or her cultural heritage • a willingness to foster links with that heritage in the child’s upbringing; and • the capacity to help the child should he or she encounter racism or discrimination in school or in the wider community” (NSW Law Reform Commission 1997:319-320). 42 Objections raised by members of the adoption community and NGOs included questions such as – How do you determine the ‘cultural heritage’ of the child? What particular characteristics of the child’s ‘culture’ will be considered first – race, language, geographical location, kinship beliefs, customs, religion, laws, morals? How do you determine what is an ‘appropriate’ family for a ‘mixed-race’ child? What happens to a child when there is no information from the overseas country on his/her cultural background? It was also suggested that giving primary consideration to a person’s ‘cultural heritage’ reduced identity construction to the single issue of race. Concerns were also raised about the qualifications and capability of welfare department staff and social workers to implement the policy. Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 20 5

(a) the capacity to assist the child to develop a healthy and positive cultural identity,

(b) knowledge of or a willingness to learn about, and teach the child about, the child’s cultural heritage,

(c) a willingness to foster links with that heritage in the child’s upbringing,

(d) the capacity to help the child if the child encounters racism or discrimination in school or the wider community.

I’d like to elaborate a little on point two of Section 32, commencing with part (d) on the

“capacity to help the child should he or she encounter racism…” which has caused considerable controversy in transracial adoption debates in Britain and the United

States 43 as well as in Australia.

“Capacity to help the child should he or she encounter racism”

The NSW Law Reform Commission’s “Arguments in favour of cultural continuity” states that “placing children in need of care within their own culture minimises the possibility of their being subjected to racism. Racism is, regrettably, still a feature of human relations” (New South Wales Law Reform Commission 1997:314). It is indeed true, as I have argued consistently throughout the thesis that various racisms persist into the twenty first century. However, children who are raised within “their own culture”

(whatever that may mean in the contemporary context of transnational, hybridised identities) are certainly not immune to the effects of racism, nor do the effects of various racisms on migrant communities appear to be “minimised” by living with a family who has the “same or similar cultural heritage” see (Bartholet 1994; Tizard 1994;

Twine 1999; Wilson 1984). I am not arguing against the well supported premise that the best outcome for individual children is that they remain with their immediate family or extended family unit or local adoptive family within their birth country. However when due to a range of socio-cultural and political circumstances, this is not possible intercountry adoption is a valid option.

43 See In the Best Interests of the Child: Culture, Identity and Transracial Adoption (Gaber 1994a), a compilation of US and British writers on race matching in adoption. Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 206

But the dominant discourse which suggests that “placing children in need of care within their own culture minimises the possibility of their being subjected to racism”, reduces the complexities of ‘culture’ to ‘race’, promoting the idea that all people belong to racially bounded, homogeneous groups – that membership within a particular racial group means that all members are imbued with the same level of (in)abilities, expertise or skills appropriately to educate their children about issues of inequality. Further, it reduces the ability successfully to parent to the single issue of race, disregarding social factors relating to class, location, gender, institutional and social support as well as individual competencies which obviously affect parenting strategies. As Paul Gilroy states:

Racism itself should be recognised as a factor in increasing household stresses and conflicts around money, status and power, gender and generation. Cultural sameness and common bodily characteristics do not, by themselves, promote good parenting. This is an area in which no guarantees are possible (Gilroy 1994: x).

France Winddance Twine’s study about the meaning of racial difference for white birth mothers of African-descent children in Britain also offers considerable insight into these issues. Twine, a black feminist theorist, aimed to consider public discourse and life history interviews of white birth mothers parenting their African-descent children “to understand how white mothers (and their black partners) mediate, interpret and respond to white supremacist ideologies” (Twine 1999:187). Twine suggests that although there is a growing body of feminist literature on racism and anti-racism amongst white women in organised racist and anti-racist movements “there has been little sustained theoretical or empirical analysis of the ways in which racism and anti- racism structure the maternal experiences of white mothers of African-descent children” (Twine 1999:186). On interviewing black family members of white women,

Twine discovered a “paradoxical discourse” which suggested that “black Caribbean women and men typically perceived their white relatives as unable to ‘equip’ their children to cope with racism because, as whites , they could not ‘empathise’ with them Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 207

not having experienced racism” (Twine 1999:187). This is consistent with the NSW Law

Reform Commission’s suggestion that white adoptive parents “who are not members of a minority group themselves may not understand the implications or importance of race to those who are” (New South Wales Law Reform Commission 1997:315).

However, Twine’s study produced a significant finding which resonates well beyond the boundaries of her research project. She found that “because white mothers must often manage the presumed ‘racial’ divide between themselves and their children, they may sometimes work harder (than black mothers of children of Anglo-European and African descent) to acquire an understanding of how racial difference (and thus racism) impacts their children”. She continues, “In other words, if they are conscious of the assumptions made about their maternal competence (and if their children report racism to them) they may be more likely than their black peers to develop proactive anti-racist parental strategies” (Twine 1999:187). 44

Of course, Twine is not the only one to become aware of white mothers trying harder to overcome “the assumptions about their maternal competence” in relation to issues of racial difference. Twine’s study shows significant similarities to some white adoptive mothers’ experiences in the contemporary Australian context. Just as Twine’s white birth mothers were proactive in arming their children with strategies of empowerment, there is significant evidence of a growing number of adoptive parents who are employing a range of strategies to assist their children cope with racial difference. I mentioned in the earlier chapter on Korean adoptees ‘Travelling Back’ about a Korean-

Australian, Mary, who has spent much time mentoring young Korean-Australians

44 The gendered nature of this practice must also be noted. Yuval-Davis’s (1997) reflections on the social construction of womanhood where women are seen as a representative of the collective is relevant here. Women “are not only accorded the task of symbolising their nation or ethnic collectivity, they are often also usually expected to reproduce it culturally…women are often the ones chosen to be the intergenerational transmitters of cultural traditions, customs, songs, cuisine, and of course, the mother tongue” (Yuval-Davis 1997:196). Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 208

through her church. ‘Speaking’ to adoptive parents on Australia-adopt-korea listserv she says:

I am just so amazed by your dedication for your children in trying to know more about Korea. I just cannot help admiring your dedication and efforts. I don't even know of many Korean migrant parents who would try that much to maintain the cultural connection and heritage.

Toby Volkman in her discussion of Chinese-American adoptive families and their interactions with other Asian-Americans also speaks about the ironies involved in adoptive parents efforts to nurture “cultural pride” in an effort to resist later conflicts about race. She uses the example of a Chinese-American (non-adoptive) mother who says that “adoptive parents astound me with how much pride they take in their daughter’s birth culture. In fact, they’ve inspired me to incorporate Chinese art and language into the fabric of my daughter’s life” (Volkman 2003a:33).

Asian-American and Asian-Australian immigrant experiences are obviously different in many ways to the experiences of adoptive families. For example, Korean-Australian,

Mary also spoke about the difficulties some 1.5 generationers have communicating with their parents because of language difficulties and other cultural barriers:

Many of these 1.5 generationers have difficulty communicating to their parents due to many factors. First of all, a lot of these 1.5 generationers have difficulty speaking Korean and their parents find it difficult to speak English. Their parents thought they were doing the best for their children not teaching Korean and focusing on being assimilated into the Australian society in every possible way...

A lot of them say to me they just can't talk to their parents at all. They say they can communicate basic needs of babies, i.e. "I'm hungry" or "I am tired", but they don't even attempt to share other things with their parents because they "know" their parents would not understand due to language difficulties. On the other hand, their parents feel that they cannot offer anything because they are in the dark about growing up in this multicultural Australian society and culture. The result is, they don't talk to each other.

Mary’s insights into the language and cultural barriers some 1.5 and second generationers experience within their families is reflected in the literature. Mandy

Thomas, for example, in her study of young Vietnamese-Australians suggests “that the Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 209

different expectations of parents born in Vietnam and children brought up in Australia were a cause of enormous stress within families. The house may be a haven and a refuge for many Vietnamese, but for some it is the site of conflict and despair” (Thomas

1999:64) 45 It is not my intention to analyse intergenerational immigrant family relations in this thesis – much has already been written on the topic and it is not my focus.

However, within the context of adoptive families being portrayed as deficient in skills to deal with issues of racial difference and racism, it is worth mentioning the significant difficulties some migrant families also face in coping with such issues. They are obviously dealing with many issues which are different to some adoptive families’ experiences. Such structural and cultural issues may in some situations relate to class and other economic inequalities, difficulties in accessing educational and employment opportunities, managing cultural and language barriers and so on. Further, concentrating on intergenerational issues reduces all forms of social inequality to familial struggles, allowing broader societal issues relating to racial, economic and other structural inequalities to be subsumed within the family unit 46. However, in relation to issues of racism there are commonalities – both youths from migrant families and intercountry adoptees experience various racisms and show significant diversity in the strategies they employ to cope with this. In addition, both groups of parents also show differences in their level of support for their children in this regard. Mary spoke about the way some young Korean-Australians react to racist taunts. She says:

Some talk about it while others ignore it. Some seem oblivious to it while others are so sensitive about it. Some say it would not worry them at all while others say it really bothers them. Some get upset when strangers ask them where they come from: they said why they had to have come from a different country just because they look different. Most of them feel helpless and just tried to avoid being in such a situation if they can.

45 See also Ingenious (Thomas 2003a). In the Amercian context see Modelminority: A guide to Asian-American empowerment www.modelminority.com , also The Changing Face of Home (Waters 2002). 46 Eng(2003) suggests something similar when he talks about how “racial melancholia” for Asian-Americans is “often and even exclusively configured within Asian- American cultural politics as an intergenerational and intersubjective negotiation” which tends “to reduce all social issues, including those resulting from institutional racism and economic exploitation, to first-generation versus second-generation struggles” and “it denies what are necessarily public problems and absolves the state and mainstream community from proper address or redress” (Eng 2003:7). Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 210

Mary elaborated on the youths’ efforts to learn the Korean language once they go to

University so that they can become a part of Korean-speaking sub-cultures. She says:

A lot of these young people have an experience of mixing very well with Australian kids until they graduate high school and then once they get into Uni they say they encounter an unspoken, invisible wall between different cultural backgrounds. Even those who only used to mix with Aussie kids find it difficult to befriend Aussies and are driven out to a new world in which they have to find Korean, or at least other Asian friends. Of course this is not to say the opposite never happens…this is what makes these youths who only speak English want to learn Korean and find a church to belong to. Churches are increasingly becoming a context for social life for these youths as well as older people.

Indeed, a sense of belonging around ‘ethnic’ identifications seems to be a common response by individuals and groups who have been exposed to racial discrimination.

Nazli Kibria, for example, in her study on transnationalism and identity among second- generation Chinese- and Korean-Americans suggests that “experiences of racial exclusion were closely intertwined for my informants with the message of primordialist

Chinese or Korean membership” (Kabria 2002:301). Kibria refers to Fernandez-Kelly and Schauffler (1994) who “note that ethnic identities constitute important resources for those who are labelled in stigmatizing ways” (Kabria 2002:301). Thus for these second- generationers, connection with some ‘primordial’ essence allowed them a way of resisting various racisms. This is consistent with many of the older adoptees efforts to join with other adoptees (in birth country specific as well as more general transracial adoptee groups) both nationally and globally in an effort to resist exclusionary racist discourse. For some adoptee groups, like some second and subsequent generation immigrant groups, ‘homeland trips’ also become a highly emotional means of claiming membership and belonging to a ‘Korean’, ‘Chinese’ or ‘Vietnamese’ collective.

However, for some of the younger adoptees, at this particular time, strategically essentialising their identities by claiming membership of a bounded ‘Korean’ of

‘Chinese’ collective does not appear to be their main focus. While their hybrid status usually allows them exposure to such things as multi-cultural exploration and education and travel to a country and people to which they are inextricably connected, they are Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 211

also concerned with finding their place within contemporary, consumerist youth cultures, local communities and within their adoptive family unit.

The meaning of ‘cultural identity’ then, must include more than a (re)establishment or

(re)invention of cultural traditions but also incorporate the importance of contemporary modes of hybrid belonging which are particularly evident in younger adoptee narratives. Ang’s analysis of diaspora politics is important to consider here. Ang refers to “one of the most well-known popular Chinese diaspora institutions in recent years, the website Huaren (http:/www.huaren.org)”. She refers to the site’s homepage which

“depicts the Chinese diasporic experience specifically in terms of loss of identity and stresses the need and opportunity to restore it through the electronic assertion of a proto-familial, ethnic/racial community” (Ang 2003:144). Huaren’s goal is to unite all those with some Chinese ancestry which would suggest that “any Chinese American or

Chinese Canadian would do well, to all intents and purposes, to be Chinese first, and

American or Canadian only second”. This form of diasporic politics then “is based on the premise that ancestry is ultimately more important than present place of living in determining one’s contemporary identity and sense of belonging” (Ang 2003:145).

Ang’s analysis may offer a way of understanding better the contemporary state of play in dominant intercountry adoption discourse. ‘Cultural identity’ in multicultural policy and extended into other policy areas such as intercountry adoption, has come to be defined by a person’s ‘ethnicity’ which is usually determined by place of birth. As Luke and Luke suggest, “Australian scholarship has a deliberate conceptual focus on ethnic and cultural identity – rather than racial identity – linguistic background (NESB categorization) and a focus on birthplace as indicator of ethnic identity and/or racial ancestry” (Luke 1998:730).

In this way, adoption policy and official adoption discourse has tended to promote a narrow, bounded, static understanding of ‘cultural identity’ which does not encompass Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 212

the reality of adoptees’ dynamic, hybrid existence in contemporary Australia. In more recent times, adoption support groups and many adoptive parents have risen to the challenge of assisting their children in acquiring a ‘positive cultural identity’ as prescribed by official dogma. I will elaborate a little more on this in the next section. But what are adoptees’ responses to this cultural shift in parenting strategies? And how much support do adoptive families receive to achieve these goals?

“knowledge of or a willingness to learn about, and teach the child about, the child’s cultural heritage”

From the late 1980s and 1990s and following legislation to ensure the child’s right to knowledge of and access to their birth records, family and birth culture, a significant cultural shift has taken place in expectations placed on adoptive parenthood. This is evident when we consider the responses of the adolescent participants who spoke about the extent to which their parents have encouraged and enabled them to learn about their birth family and culture as well as the various measures parents have taken to assist their families to better cope with issues of racial difference and racism. This is not to say that adoptive parents prior to this time did not encourage their children to learn about their birth culture or did not assist them to cope with issues of racial difference - some were clearly very proactive in this regard as can be seen in the narratives of Sri Lankan born, Mallika and Vietnamese born, Sue - but it is to suggest that prior to the late1980s or 90s adoptive parents could be forgiven for placing minimal emphasis on the ‘cultural heritage’ of their children.

However, the pendulum has now swung. Popular and official discourse about the importance of cultural identity means prospective adoptive parents are scrutinised and expected to educate themselves about the various ways they can assist their child/ren in this regard. Although various states’ legislation stipulates that adoptive parents must have (a) the capacity to assist the child to develop a healthy and positive cultural Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 213

identity, (b) knowledge of or a willingness to learn about, and teach the child about, the child’s cultural heritage and, (c) a willingness to foster links with that heritage in the child’s upbringing, they are expected to achieve this with little/no government support both pre or post-adoption. The report on the Federal Government inquiry Overseas

Adoption in Australia (November 2005) states:

The committee was surprised to find a general lack of support for adoption – both local and intercountry – in most state and territory welfare departments which are responsible for processing all adoption applications. The lack of support ranged from indifference to hostility, much to the distress of prospective parents seeking to adopt children from overseas. State and Territory intercountry adoption units are generally under resourced, leading to long queues for those seeking intercountry adoptions, long processing times and an intercountry adoption rate that remains low by international standards…

This lack of resources and support for intercountry adoption is part of the wider story of adoption in Australia generally…following the unsympathetic adoption practices between the 1950s and 1970s, the policy focus has been on the birth parents and a belief that children should maintain their biological links above all else. The term ‘in the best interests of the child’ seems to be used as a shield against criticism of current adoption policy. This has led to tens of thousands of children being placed in foster care and other forms of out-of-home care when adoption could well have been in their best interests (House of Representatives Standing Committee on Family and Human Services 2005:viii). 47

In relation to post-adoption support, the Federal Government Standing Committee found that while no funding or assistance was available for intercountry adoption groups (except for two groups in Western Australia), “post-adoption support groups, such as those which developed to assist mothers who were forced to give up their children between the 1950s and 1970s, did receive financial support” (House of

Representatives Standing Committee on Family and Human Services 2005:121).’ Post- adoption support’, in adoption discussions has come to be synonymous with ‘search and reunion’ 48 while all other support (which may include help for newly formed

47 The findings of this inquiry in relation to welfare department attitudes to adoption are consistent with my earlier Honours degree research (Gray 1999). 48 Correspondence with Post Adoption Resource Centre (PARC) about the type of services they are funded for produced this response. “We’re funded to respond to the post adoption needs of anyone affected by NSW adoption legislation. In practice this means a lot of search inquiries, intermediary work, talking through reunion problems, grief counselling, family and couple counselling, research, therapeutic groups, workshops, library, internet resources, linking people with others in similar circumstances, etc However, we have 4 part-time counsellors, and we’re located only in Bondi and some days at Summer Hill, so we’re limited in how many people we can reach” (correspondence with PARC, 5/8/05). Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 214

adoptive families 49 , issues related to bonding and attachment, dealing with racism, educating the educators about adoption and race and so on) is seen as the responsibility of individual families.

However, regardless of the lack of government support many adoptive parents have formed a range of social groups resourced through fund-raising activities and run by volunteers. There is now an established tradition in adoptive family communities where groups of families meet at various social gatherings – participants in both the older and younger group of adoptees mentioned attending (in varying degrees) playgroups and picnics with other adoptive families when they were children. In more recent decades contact between families has also included time spent at language schools, seminars on adoption, country specific cultural days, cultural camps, traditional cultural performances including dance, other traditional musical instrument performances, costume exhibitions, food stalls, cooking classes, birth country specific restaurants, and the like. Some have also joined together with other adoptive families and other immigrant families to participate in ‘homeland’ trips while other families have made return journeys on their own.

Increased access to a variety of communication mediums in recent decades, has meant that adoptive parents, in addition to meeting physically in various social groups, now converse in on-line support groups, some in birth country specific lists or in broader adoption related groups including groups related to adoption research and campaigning for changes to policy and practices. On-line support groups allow members to share access to the global adoption community where support is available

49 The Inquiry into Adoption of Children from Overseas made note of the “lack of access to entitlements” for newly formed adoptive families which “is additionally concerning due to the high costs of intercountry adoption” (House of Representatives Standing Committee on Family and Human Services 2005: 70). Such entitlements include inequality in access to maternity leave payments, maternity payment, adoption leave, difficulties in making arrangements for their children in relation to school enrolments, passports, birth certificates and Medicare and so on(House of Representatives Standing Committee on Family and Human Services 2005:69-87). Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 215

from a range of adoption institutes and organisations who offer guidance in the everyday realities of living with racial difference50 . However, on-line information and support about adoption and race issues is primarily available through United States,

European and Scandinavian based organisations – Australian based post-adoption support is significantly undeveloped to date.

In on-line discussions, parents speak about such issues as their visibility in the public domain, how to protect their children from intrusive questions from strangers about their ‘origins’, how to educate their children as well as educate school and other community educators about issues surrounding adoption and race, about appropriate school environments and how to deal with racist incidents, newly released books on adoption related issues, about the contemporary and traditional culture and politics of their children’s birthplace, about experiencing birthplace culture through travel and study options and about various cultural events both in Australia and overseas which may be of interest to others on the list. There is also discussion about ways to ‘give something back’ to the people and organisations which enabled their children to become a part of their lives. For example, a group of adoptive mothers from Western

Australia travelled to Seoul on a ‘Mother to Mother’ trip in 2005 to raise money for

Sharon’s House, a home for local birthmothers who do not wish to relinquish their children, and also to promote the local adoption campaign 51 .

Others have spoken about attending their children’s schools as parent helpers and how to cope with the varying responses they had received from individual teachers about

50 United States based organisations include The Evan B. Donaldson Adoption Institute www.adoptioninstitute.org ; PACT: an adoption alliance www.pactadopt.org ; EMK Press: Adoption Resources for Families, www.emkpress.com . 51 One of the adoptive parent organisers of the trip wrote this message to Australia-adopt-korea list on their return –“ So our message was simply - that we recognize the courage and loss our children’s birthmothers have and support their desire to keep their children if they are able, just like we would here. We promoted domestic adoption as we also acknowledge that for many domestic adoption is a better option, however it needs to more open. We all are also eternally grateful and blessed to have Korean children in our lives and families, through whom our lives are enriched and enhanced. We also promised the birthmothers we met and other Koreans who asked that our children would never forget where they came from or where their lives began” (Oct. 2005). Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 216

adoption and race issues. In response to such a discussion an adult Korean adoptee, age 25, spoke to parents on the Australia-adopt-Korea list about her experiences growing up in Darwin:

I thought I would email you to tell you about my childhood and school. I grew up mostly in Darwin. I think I was very fortunate for this because Darwin is a very multicultural place 52 . In primary school I had several adopted children at the same school. I remember always being proud to say I was adopted. No one treated me different because of it. I actually think it was good that my parents didn't make a really big deal about it as that would have made me feel more different than it should have. Again if I had any questions or problems my parents were/are always supportive and open.

I am now a teacher myself and I always talk about being adopted and how special it is to me. I am fortunate to have my mum work in my classroom so they can see that I don't look the same as her. It has also brought up conversations about the children knowing other adopted children too. I am glad to hear that the teacher has accepted your help. I love parent helpers in the classroom to do things like reading with children.

The Darwin adoptees’ suggestion that she thought it was better that her parent’s didn’t

‘make a big deal’ of being adopted as this would have made her “feel more different than I should have” is consistent with a number of the other adoptees’ experiences.

Mallika, for example, spoke about an adoptive family she knew who made their children very aware of the existence of racism and how to respond. She says:

A family we were close to (in adoption circles only) had children who were very very aware of racism and I think they found it where it did not necessarily exist. I feel their adoptive parents told them what indicators to look out for and the children could then create situations where their racial background became important and made them aware of difference.

The privileging of racial identity over other forms of social difference would seem to be just as dangerous as earlier models of parenting which encouraged children to ‘just ignore the teasing’. However, it does seem clear that strategies to assist children to deal with racism in the contemporary context should include educating children and parents about the existence of various racisms and arming children with the knowledge

52 Luke and Luke (1999) in their study of interracial families and the importance of location in racialising practices, consider the history of Darwin and its “interethnic” families. Darwin’s close proximity to Indonesia and to Aboriginal bush and island communities as well as its history as a fishing and pearling town has resulted in “many generationally removed interracial offspring” and “cross-generational relationships among the Aboriginal, Asian and Anglo-Australian communities”. Luke and Luke suggest that the idea of Darwin as a community “predates the formal policies and government discourse of ‘multiculturalism’ and ‘Aboriginal reconciliation’, referring to some of their interviewees who spoke of Darwin in the 40s and 50s and the “multiethnic” families who “lived together…and all experienced the same hardships, the same isolation, poverty, and sharing things” (Luke 1999:241-242). Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 217

that racism is a broader societal and global problem, that they are not responsible for the bigoted behaviour of others and that they have a right to speak out about such behaviour. Adoptive parents’ efforts to instil a sense of pride in their children (as well as in their interracial family as a whole), about the history, traditional and contemporary culture of their birthplace also appears to be an important strategy in coping with exclusionary racist practices. Kabria mentions similar strategies employed by some

Korean-American parents who stressed to their children the importance of being proud of their Korean heritage following the childrens’ experiences of racial taunting. (Kabria

2002:302) 53 .

Official multiculturalism has encouraged bounded ‘ethnic’ groups to display aspects of their ‘cultural heritage’ in such things as street parades incorporating traditional costumes or in various traditional dance or artistic displays. Such an emphasis on tradition has also been the preoccupation of some adoptive family groups in their efforts to assist their children to learn about the people and culture of their birth. But how do adoptees respond to what some theorists have described as “cultural bites” 54 ?

The (In)Significance of ‘Cultural Bites’ to Intercountry Adoptees

Toby Volkman, in her exploration of adoptive families of Chinese children in the United

States describes the various means of cultural production parents are engaged in. In a way similar to Australian adoptive parents’ experiences in learning about the alienating effects of earlier assimilationist practices on Vietnamese-Australian adoptees,

Volkman, in the United States context suggests, “it is part awareness of the Korean experience that motivates parents of Chinese children to provide something - pride in

53 However, see also Richard Lee’s study, Resilience Against Discrimination: Ethnic Identity and Other-Group Orientation as Protective Factors for Korean Americans which states that “the study findings challenge the majority of theory and research on ethnic identity (Phinney 1990) which posits that ethnic identity protects unconditionally against the deleterious effects of discrimination” (Lee 2005:41). 54 Volkman (2003) and Ahluwalia (2004) refer to Anagnost’s (2000) use of the term “cultural bites” to describe adoptive parent attempts to connect their children to some form of their birth culture (Volkman 2003a:32; Ahulwalia 2004; Anagnost 2000). Volkman however, suggests that this metaphor “does not fully capture the myriad strategies families explore” (Volkman 2003a:32). Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 218

culture, pride in being Chinese”. She continues, “the sense of responsibility for doing this may begin with social workers who counsel prospective parents about the challenges of forming transracial or transnational families and about the need to acquire ‘cultural competence’ (Volkman 2003a:32). Of course, as Volkman suggests, global discourses from the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child (1989) and the Hague Convention on Intercountry Adoption (1993) have also affirmed the need for “due regard” to be paid “to the child’s ethnic, religious, cultural and linguistic background” (Volkman 2003a:32).

Adoptees show a variety of responses to their parents’ attempts to “ assist the child to develop a healthy and positive cultural identity”. For example, Amy and Min Kyung spoke about attending Korean camp and language school:

Yes, my parents took me to a few (Korean camps) when I was younger…I didn't really like them, (my sister) and I just kept to ourselves. They were just people I didn't really want to meet. I don't really think that they really achieve much. We talk about everyone being the same, yet these camps or picnics divide us. I guess to some people it gives them peace of mind that they are not alone being adopted and Asian and the older ones can help the younger ones with racism and being adopted . Personally I prefer not to go to them. My parents like them more than I do. They went to one a couple of months ago without me mind you and loved it. I guess it’s good for them too. To talk to the other parents and find out about their kids. My parents are so funny. (Korean-Australian adoptee - Amy)

When I was around 5-6 I used to go to Saet Byol, however I don't really remember what it was like, but my parents used to take me there. Also I remember that when I was little my parents used to gather with other adopted parents and I would play with the other children, however now I have no contact with these other children but I think my parents still talk to their parents. I used to go to Korean school, and learn how to speak Korean however I had to quit because of gymnastics (Korean-Australian adoptee - Min Kyung)

Similarly, Mallika spoke about attending adoptive family picnics. She says:

When young we were often taken to big picnics of adopted children and their families. In hindsight I see this as being more beneficial to the parents than the kids. I didn't care that I was adopted, neither did my siblings, but when we went on picnics, suddenly we became different, and we had almost nothing in common with most of the kids because they were not our everyday friends.

Unlike Jon who spoke of his enjoyment of adoption groups, ‘culture’ camps and language school, Amy, Min Kyung and Mallika did not readily identify with such Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 219

formalised, adoption specific activities throughout their lives. The adoptees’ comments about adoptee gatherings marking them as ‘different’ to their everyday peers, is consistent with Yngvesson’s and Mahoney’s observations. However, the abovementioned adoptees do not appear to feel, as Yngvesson suggests, that this is

“simply another version of everyday encounters that mark them as ‘not me’ in their families, schools and communities” (Yngvesson 2000:84). Rather, they articulated their sense of belonging within their family unit and within different peer groups which may or may not consist of people who are adopted or members of the same ‘ethnic’ group.

It is also worthwhile mentioning at this point that some adoption theorists’ concerns about the tokenism associated with “cultural bites” does not appear to be a concern which is uniquely a part of intercountry adoptees’ lives. Amanda Wise’s exploration of cultural representations of the East Timorese community in Sydney, for example, addresses similar concerns about cultural authenticity albeit in different ways. Wise considers the involvement of East Timorese youth in an artwork exhibition and their resistance to “’ethnic-box’ stereotypes of Timorese culture” and other traditional displays and their creation of their own hybrid cultural formations. She describes the reactions from the broader East Timorese community about the exhibition which included comments, from some older community members, that the items available for display in Australia “didn’t quite measure up to the ‘true’ culture of East Timor” and that

“the young people hadn’t ‘learnt the culture yet’, and therefore, how on earth could they possibly do a good job representing the community?” (Wise 2003:98). Wise suggests however, that most youth “seem to be able to move between these two cultural forms: the hybrid and the ‘official ethnic version’ and often combine both in very inventive ways” (Wise 2003:86). So how is this similar to or different from the adoptee experience of traditional cultural displays and other cultural activities related to adoption gatherings? I will provide an example which may illustrate the dilemmas for some adoptees attending specific cultural activities. Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 220

Sri Lankan adoptee Mallika says:

The worst thing I did when I was young was let my mum encourage me to do Sri Lankan dancing. I hated it. I didn't like being lumped with a group of girls who shared my skin colour and nothing more. Most of them were from SL families and I had nothing in common with them either. The dancing took me away from my usual friends and kept me out of what would be my last sports carnival at school before my accident. After my accident I didn't want to see anybody from SL dancing.

In later correspondence Mallika continued:

I think mum's pressure for me to keep doing the Sri Lankan dancing was a good thing because it became a feather in my hat and reaffirmed to me that I am Australian and I do not need my birth culture in my life to be a well-rounded individual.

Mallika’s story reminded me of Volkman’s similar example of a Chinese-American adoptee whose adoptive mother provided opportunities to develop “a deep appreciation of the Chinese art and culture” through Asian art museums, Chinese acrobat performances, Chinese New Year parade and encouraged her to do “a more international form of movement: gymnastics”. However, “in spite of all this, Oona fell passionately in love with, and became incredibly good at, Irish dancing” (Volkman

2003a:31).

Wise’s analysis of the East Timorese intergenerational community experience highlights the way official multiculturalism, articulated by some of the older, first generation community members, promotes reified ideas of ‘traditional’ culture at the same time as young people within ‘ethnic’ communities choose to represent themselves in ‘inauthentic’ hybrid forms 55 . In a similar way to some of the East

Timorese youth, some adoptees have also resisted attempts by parents, adoptive family groups, language schools and the like to ensure continuation of a child’s ‘cultural

55 See also Ommundsen’s analysis of the Chinese-Australian community where “the multicultural ‘food and folklore’ version of culture was an issue about which the participants were deeply divided. Older migrants and business people spoke of the benefits of showcasing a rich cultural tradition and of the need to preserve this heritage in order to instil in younger generations a pride in their identity. On the other hand, the younger interviewees and those personally involved in the arts were almost invariably dismissive of what they regarded as a ‘museum culture’, and were more interested in culturally bybrid forms and in contemporary art from China and the diaspora” (Ommundsen 2003:199). Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 221

heritage’ and chosen to invent other ways of defining themselves. For adoptees, this may or may not mean taking on board traditional aspects of birth cultures but usually does include incorporating and (re)inventing aspects of contemporary cultures (both birth and adoptive). I will provide a few examples which suggest the transnational nature of adoptee identities.

Jon and David spoke of their love of Korean pop music and other aspects of Korean youth culture which they had incorporated into their lives following their trips to Korea while Josie spoke about the influence her “multicultural friends” have on her hybrid music tastes. She says “I like all kinds of music mainly dance and pop, but I listen to grunge and r & b (rhythm and blues) too. It just depends, coz my friends have very specific tastes, so I leave myself open to all kinds of music ”. Dom, as mentioned previously has immersed himself in (re)producing Vietnamese-Australian youth culture through his involvement in documentary film and theatre. Indi has been involved in the global Vietnamese diaspora through her production of a Vietnamese adoptee website, adoptee support in the form of ‘homeland’ trips, social groups, various academic research and other transnational pursuits. Linnea has spent extended periods of time studying Korean language and socialising with the ex-pat Korean adoptee network now based in Seoul 56 . For other adoptees however, such as Mallika, their birth culture and their adoption status may not feature prominently in their self identification.

As Amanda Wise suggests in her analysis of the hybrid nature of East Timorese youth,

“what aspects of traditional identity a young person might hang on to, and what they let go of, is influenced by a whole set of intersecting relations, from family pressures to

56 See Hyphen magazine, Summer 2005 http://hyphenmagazine.com/features/issues/summer05/korean_adoptees.php “For expatriate adoptees in Seoul, Korea, the city's outré nightlife center of Hong dae is the one that matters. Every weekend, a community of adoptees — a hundred strong and growing — gathers there at a kitschy watering hole called Hippo. Huddled over glasses of soju, the group weaves in and out of foreign vocabulary, and trades tragicomic stories of adoption and good-natured complaints about life in Korea. But it's not just their conversation that makes the adoptees stand out from the natives they call "Korean Koreans." Their expat status is betrayed by their fashion sense — Europeans in their Diesel clothes and spiked hair, Americans in jeans and t-shirts — and their raucous air of celebration”. Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 222

experiences of racism, from homeland politics to media representations, from the importance of religion in their lives to the makeup of friendship groups. The extent to which a young person feels comfortable with their identity has to do with all these things and more” (Wise 2003:93). Similarly, intercountry adoptees’ sense of belonging and identity construction is also influenced by a myriad of factors including those suggested by Wise in her analysis of the experiences of some East Timorese youth.

It seems particularly important to mention, then, that familial strategies are only part of the story in offering some level of protection from racial difference and various racisms.

As the earlier discussion on youth sub-cultures has shown, adoptees need access to a range of social support which includes such things as, a sense of belonging within supportive peer groups, appropriate school programmes which target bullying in all its forms, knowledge and access to a diverse range of sub-culture styles, opportunities for transnational pursuits, as well as a supportive family who, amongst other things, encourage knowledge and acceptance of, and access to, a diversity of peoples and cultures including the birth cultures of family members. Such support systems allow adoptees to accumulate the social and cultural capital 57 necessary to feel a sense of belonging to their local community, to the nation as well a sense of being a part of the larger transnational adoptee diaspora.

The loss associated with abandonment seems to be significantly magnified for those adoptees who do not have at least some of these support systems in place. Those adoptees who experienced further losses through the death of an adoptive parent 58 or

57 Bourdieu used the term cultural capital to mean “endowments such as cultural and linguistic competence” that children in middle-class families acquire from their parents and which ensure their success in school. He later “developed a more complex differentiation of social capital (power secured through family members, or other networks), symbolic capital (such as reputation or honour), economic capital (the ownership of economic assets such as property, shares and investments) and finally cultural capital (educational qualifications, and distinction in the world of art and science)”(Abercrombie 2000:81). 58 Two of the older adoptees, Naomi and Kristen, experienced the death of an adoptive parent when they were children. Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 223

parents who divorced 59 also appear to have their social, cultural and economic capital substantially affected. Naomi, for example spoke of how the death of her father while she was away at boarding school affected her emotional wellbeing as well as her ability to obtain the educational levels she desired. Similarly, Sri Lankan adoptee, Kristen believes that the death of her adoptive mother, (who was born in Sri Lanka), when she was only a child limited her opportunities to learn about, and have ongoing contact with, her birth country. Some of the other adoptees whose parents divorced suggested that the reduction in family income and changed family circumstances contributed to limited opportunities to travel or explore their birth culture.

But as I have already established, individual and particular family circumstances have also been impacted by socio-historical and political contexts. The first adoptees to arrive in Australia in the 1970s and 80s seemed to be particularly at risk of experiencing feelings of not belonging due to the impact of particular social policies.

The historical context associated with their issues of cultural belonging can not be underestimated, for example, older adoptees growing up in predominantly assimilationist Australia had different societal challenges and choices to other adoptees who arrived some time later. Some older adoptees’ emphasis on (re)claiming their rights to (re)connect with their ‘cultural heritage’ shows parallels with other ‘ethnic’ communities efforts to instil a sense of pride in an effort to counter the alienating effects of racial difference.

But as intercountry adoptees come to feel less alienated and more empowered, the need to explore cultural ‘essences’ seems less important. This is not to say that intercountry adoptees will have less interest in searching for, and making contact with birth relatives and birth cultures. The experiences of some of the younger and older

59 Five adoptees experienced the divorce of their adoptive parents while they were young children or adolescents. Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 224

groups of adoptees in this study, described in the chapters on travelling back to birth countries, suggests that individual adoptees are interested in searching at different times for varying reasons. But I wish to argue that there are differences in the extent to which the experience of searching for birth families (and in their absence the search for a cultural ‘essence’) defines an individual’s own construction of identity. For some of the older adoptees, the intensity of emotion around searching experiences portrayed as a ‘quest for identity’, seems to be intricately linked with racial isolation and the lack of opportunities and options to explore other ways of being in their youth and adolescence.

Other Asian-Australian groups also experienced the social and political constraints of these times albeit in somewhat different ways. Ommundsen, for example, in her study on modes of cultural belonging in the Chinese-Australian diaspora discusses the differences within various Chinese immigrant groups in relation to attachments to the

‘homeland’ and says that “with the growing diversity and confidence of overseas

Chinese communities, the discourse of cultural preservation is increasingly being replaced by an emphasis on development, diversification and contestation”

(Ommundsen 2003:197). The hybrid, contested nature of younger adoptee identities seems to suggest that a new understanding of what it is to acquire a “healthy, positive cultural identity” is also well under way in the Australian intercountry adoptee community.

Ommundsen’s study is also valuable as a way to understand how different immigrant groups manage their ‘difference’. She describes the two main groups of her study as those who immigrated in the late 1980s or early 90s from the Peoples Republic of

China (PRC) and a group of “non-PRC” immigrants from Hong Kong, Singapore and other parts of Southeast Asia. Ommundsen suggests that for those in the latter group,

(for the most part), “the transition has proved much easier than for their mainland Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 225

contemporaries”. She suggests some of the factors which contribute to this are

“education, English proficiency, financial security, familiarity with Western, or

Westernised, systems of government and previous experience of culturally diverse societies”. In relation to issues of racial and cultural difference, Ommundsen says for the non-PRC immigrants, “it is not that they do not feel different from mainstream society – they do – but their difference, rather than making them feel dysfunctional, gives them a sense of pride” (Ommundsen 2003:190). This sense of pride is related to their acquisition of cultural citizenship 60 which Ommundsen believes is intricately connected with class. She says that “without disregarding age and gender (which are not the foci of this study), I would argue that class may be as important as race, perhaps even the single most important factor, in determining the pace at which a person will achieve cultural citizenship in contemporary Australian society”

(Ommundsen 2003:192). Indeed, the adoptees who were fortunate enough to have access to educational and travel opportunities which belonging to a particular socio- economic group allowed, seemed to have a greater sense of cultural belonging. For example, Mallika says “I have always been very aware of how lucky I am to have so many opportunities. I travelled to numerous countries when I was very young - my parents thought travel was one of the best forms of education” . And Sue suggests that her parents’ education and travel experiences enabled her to have “an easy going acceptance of all cultures in a sincere and searching way (which) was far more important I believe in giving me the tools to explore my own cultural roots in my own personal time in different ways as I grew up” . Exposure to a wide variety of cultural styles both within and beyond the nation seems to allow intercountry adoptees to

60 See Ommundsen’s discussion of the different meanings of ‘cultural citizenship’ which can be seen as “a mode of cultural belonging primarily negotiated within the nation-state, but frequently informed by cultural formations other than that of the nation”. It includes “rights in relation to cultural difference” but also includes “the important dimension of cultural agency” (Ommundsen 2003:183). Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 226

expand their notions of ‘cultural identity’ to incorporate more cosmopolitan 61 ideas about identity construction, and to view their hybrid status not only in terms of challenges, but also as a series of possibilities and opportunities. This also allows adoptees choices about how ‘race’ impacts their lives. Mallika, for example says:

I know I am inherently the same as any other person. I choose for racism and racial identity to play no part in my life...

- by not being better than anybody because of my race

- by rejecting old fashioned ideas about what baggage an adopted child must carry about their racial heritage.

- by knowing it doesn't matter where I am from, but who I am

The Changing Nature of ‘Cultural Identity’

Cultural identities are the points of identification, the unstable points of identification or suture, which are made, within the discourses of history and culture. Not an essence but a positioning. Hence, there is always a politics of identity, a politics of position, which has no absolute guarantee in an unproblematic, transcendental ‘law of origin’ (Hall 1990:226).

As each new decade has arrived so the adoption community and the broader society, has changed the way they view the intercountry adoptee. Our ‘enlightenment’ has included becoming aware of the challenges and complexities of the adoptee experience – to the extent that in the first decade of the twenty-first century the intercountry adoptee now symbolises the fragility, chaos, confusion and ambiguities associated with postcolonial identity construction. Official discourse essentially asserts that the way out of this confusion for adoptees lies in an adoptive parent’s ability to

“assist the child to develop a healthy and positive cultural identity ”. This response is of course indicative of a broader discourse which sees ‘identity’ “as that which will provide protection against the threat of dangerous global forces” (Ang 2000:3). And as Bauman

61 Cosmopolitan is a contested term. David Parker, for example, warns us of how the cosmopolitanism ideal of “I am a citizen of the world” is only available for “those who have the luxury of choice”. (Parker 2003:172). See also (Friedman 1997) and the compilation of writings in Cosmopolitics: Thinking and Feeling beyond the Nation (Cheah and Robbins 1998). However, Clifford appears to make a pertinent point on the subject when he says, “whatever the ultimate value of the term cosmopolitan , pluralized to account for a range of uneven affiliations, it points, at least, toward alternative nations of “cultural” identity. It undermines the “naturalness” of ethnic absolutisms, whether articulated at the nation- state, tribal or minority level” (Clifford 1998:363). Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 227

suggests, the move towards a celebration of cultural difference has meant that

“postmodern times are marked by an almost universal agreement that difference is good, precious and in need of protection and cultivation” (Bauman 1997:55). But the reason why the celebration and protection of adoptees’ identities is seen as the primary responsibility of adoptive parents is unclear. It is clear, however, that an emphasis on familial strategies as the way adoptees will achieve a “healthy and positive cultural identity”, effectively removes the responsibility of addressing broader social inequalities such as various racisms away from the public realm and places ‘the problem’ within the privatised realm of the family.

I am not arguing that an adoptee and his/her family should not wish to strive for a

“healthy and positive cultural identity” as one way to counter the effects of various racial discourses. Rather, it is the particular meanings attached to the words ‘healthy’,

‘positive’ and ‘cultural identity’ which I believe are problematic and which reduce the complexities of identity construction to searching for an essential, original ‘identity’ thus ignoring the myriad factors which influence an adoptee’s sense of self and feelings of cultural belonging. Some adoptees like Josie have questioned whether their self- identification as ‘an Australian’ is somehow problematic, or ‘inauthentic’ in the contemporary climate of needing to know ‘your roots’ and this appears to be symptomatic of the broader societal discourse which sees a ‘positive cultural identity’ as contingent on an attachment to ‘tradition’. As Ang suggests, “it may not be an exaggeration to say, sociologically speaking, that whenever the discourse of identity is articulated today, the desire expressed in it has more to do with a nostalgic harking back to an imagined golden past – embodied in the selective memory of ‘tradition’ and

‘heritage’ – than with the visionary articulation of a new future” (Ang 2000:6).

It is important to understand, however, that my thoughts about the effects of the essentialising the ‘adoptee condition’ are not only related to concerns about Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 228

predominantly Caucasian policy makers and bureaucrats promoting a discourse of victimhood associated with a ‘loss of identity’ in an effort to escape past paternalistic practices. Adoptee communities also play a role in self-essentialising in an effort to alert the broader community to the dangers and effects on adoptees’ sense of self, of the assimilationist practices of the past. However, as Werbner suggests, collective namings of imagined communities are necessary as a way to “mobilise for action” and they “emerge situationally, in opposition to other moral and aesthetic communities”.

Werbner continues, “seen over time, this multiplicity of contingent, shifting and emergent collective identities enact a composite, unreflective, ‘natural’ and changing hybridity” (Werbner 1997a:230).

It would seem then, that such hybrid constructions of imagined communities are particularly useful when they appropriately articulate and represent their members’ concerns - when they take into account adoptees’ varying responses to their positions of difference and allow for an exploration of a ‘cultural identity’ which incorporates the myriad contemporary modes of cultural belonging. In an emotional ‘call to action’, a

Korean-American adoptee articulates her concerns about the direction the Korean

Adoptees Worldwide (KAW) group is heading when she says:

Our post-modern, popular theory MARGINS are paralyzing security blankets we wrap around ourselves when we are afraid to take the risk of being responsible for who we are.

What is next for the KAD 'movement'? The courage to accept ourselves on our own without the validation of external people and institutions. Adoptive parents can acquiesce, Korea can shamefully apologize and host countries can say 'you're one of us' but we wouldn't and haven't been satisfied. Why? Because only we can claim it for ourselves. only we can help each other find the center.

- belonging, normalcy, the average-everyday KAD

IS on this board though we come from all places, classes and generations. The refusal to acknowledge and embrace this potential is completely and solely our own failure. In theoretical terms we have "internalized the marginalization".(18 June 2003).

Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 229

But clearly, not all intercountry adoptees have “internalised the marginalisation” 62 . The resistance strategies employed and articulated by some of the younger and older adoptees about the discourse of victimisation suggests that they are beginning to find other ways of being and belonging. As the previous chapter attempted to explain, from around the 1990s, the discourse of multiculturalism has seen the Other (re)imagined differently and allowed others, such as intercountry adoptees to (re)imagine themselves. Some have been able to subvert the discourse of victimisation into strategies of empowerment. But it seems clear that those adoptees who have been able to achieve this are those who have had access to adequate social support throughout their lives and who as a consequence, see themselves as having choices and opportunities. In addition, their life experiences have generally included exposure to different peoples and cultures through educational opportunities, through numerous daily interactions with ‘others’ and through travel.

There needs to be an acknowledgment that something is indeed missing from the story which sees searching for an original ‘identity’ as the only way forward. In the rush to replace the ‘lucky to be rescued’ adoptee with the adoptee as ‘victim’ of a ‘loss of culture’ and ‘loss of identity’, adoption professionals and some in the broader community may be missing the opportunity to portray a more holistic account of adoptee experiences which includes their strategies of resilience and strength as well as the assistance they have received from various sources to explore and invent multiple identity positions. However, to date government assistance has primarily taken the form of limited assistance in ‘search and reunion’ areas, leaving newly formed

62 This is referring to the colonial experience of ‘otherness’ described in the previous chapter. Not only have ‘others’ been constructed as different as presented by Said in Orientalism , Fanon’s analysis of the colonising experience in Black Skin, White Masks showed how the constructions of power and categories of knowledge of the West “had the power to make us see and experience ourselves as ‘Other’” (Hall 1990:225). As Hall states “it is one thing to position a subject or set of peoples as the Other of a dominant discourse. It is quite another thing to subject them to that ‘knowledge’, not only as a matter of imposed will and domination, by the power of inner compulsion and subjective con- formation to the norm” (Hall 1990:226). But Hall goes on to suggest that the idea of “otherness as an inner compulsion changes our conception of ‘cultural identity’. In this perspective cultural identity is not a fixed essence at all, lying unchanged outside history and culture…it has its histories – and histories have there real, material and symbolic effects” (Hall 1990:226). Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 230

adoptive families and those struggling with issues ranging from attachment and bonding to issues of racism, to take care of themselves.

We need to be aware, however, that adoptees are not alone in negotiating issues of identity. As Vietnamese adoptee, Indi states, “I think acceptance of the unknown is the best way to go forward, as well as having adult wisdom in knowing that not all hardships or questions about identity stem exclusively from adoption”. Questions of

‘identity’ are a postmodern phenomenon not only experienced by those who inhabit the

‘third space’. As Jonathan Rutherford so eloquently articulates:

For those of us positioned within the privileged discourses and structures of power, who have crossed those demarcation zones through friendships, love affairs and marriages, or in our political activities and solidarities, that often intimate, unsettling and disruptive relation between the centre and the margin displaces us. In the complex conjunctures of sex, race and class, and the multiple and micro-relations of discrimination and domination, most of us cross these boundaries, both in our individual subjectivities and our personal relationships. Whoever we are, difference threatens to decentre us (Rutherford 1990:12).

Indeed, white adoptive parents are also (re)defining their place and position within their hybrid, interracial families and within the broader societal discourse which sees their family as somehow ‘inauthentic’ and not quite ‘real’. But then this could be the subject of another dissertation. In searching for ‘a place called home’, Rutherford suggests that

‘home is where we speak from’ and that it is “only when we achieve a sense of personal integrity can we represent ourselves and be recognised – this is home, this is

`belonging” (Rutherford 1990:24). However, this “sense of personal integrity” is not something we can achieve alone. It is as Ien Ang suggests, about living “together-in- difference” (Ang 2001:200).

I’d like to finish this chapter where it began – with Ien Ang’s hybrid image of the banana

– “yellow outside, white inside”, which not only represents non-Chinese speaking,

Chinese-Australians but also has been used by intercountry adoptees to symbolise the ambiguities and ambivalences of their hybrid position. Identities, as Ang suggests: Hybrid Reflections on Cultural Belonging 231

take shape through multiple interrelationships with myriad, differently positioned others. These interrelationships, whether economic, political, professional, cultural or personal, are never power free, but they cannot be avoided, they have to be continually negotiated and engaged with somehow. More, these interrelationships are by definition constitutive of contemporary social life. This, of course, is what togetherness-in-difference is all about. It is about co-existence in a single world (Ang 2001:200).

232

CHAPTER TEN

Future Directions

Recently I was talking with an adult adoptee researcher at a camp in the Hunter Valley for Korean adoptive families and other Korean-Australian families. We were empathising with each other about the challenges of academic writing and I expressed my sense of relief that this sometimes overwhelming project was indeed coming to an end. “Yes” she said, “sometimes it is just too much isn’t it because we are so very close to the material”. Indeed.

I commenced the thesis with a personal account of my position as part of the new generation of ‘enlightened’ adoptive parents. I have participated with my children in

‘traditional’ displays of Korean culture, encouraged them to wear their hanboks (Korean traditional clothes) and sing traditional Korean songs at various adoption related events in an effort to foster a sense of pride in the rich culture of their birth. Perhaps though, as some of the younger adoptees suggest in this study, such displays are more

“beneficial to the parents than the kids” who choose to express their hybrid identities in other ways. For example, my soccer-loving, nearly eleven year old son, at specific moments chooses to wear his Manchester United soccer shirt which boldly displays the name of the Korean player who shares my son’s Korean family name and initials.

Similarly, both my children rejoiced when Park, Tae Hwan won Korea’s first gold medal at the recent World Swimming Championships in Melbourne. How adoptees choose to identify (or not) with their birth country at different times and in different places and spaces may have little to do with their ‘cultural heritage’ and much more to do with their hybrid modes of belonging within contemporary Australian and broader global cultures.

The adoptee participants in this study have taught me that my interventions in my Future Directions 233

children’s lives, including attempts at fostering ‘pride in being Korean and Australian’, will only partially contribute to the people they will become.

This study has illustrated how the domain of intercountry adoption goes well beyond personal and familial challenges. The experiences of intercountry adoptees and their families suggests changing notions of kinship and different modes of belonging intricately connected to societal discourses about ‘race’, ‘culture’, ‘community’ and

‘nation’. While much has changed in the thirty years since Australia’s first intercountry adoptees arrived and young adoptees today have access to resources and opportunities and to different ways of belonging, discourses of otherness remain in public discourse. A federal election is looming later in the year, an opportunity perhaps for the divisionary dialogue of the Howard government to be replaced by new models of leadership which promote more inclusive notions of belonging. A politics of hope for what we can become would seem to be far more visionary than a politics of fear.

However, while notions of belonging to family, community and nation are intricately connected to experiences of racial difference, cultural belonging is not only about

‘race’. It is about the myriad ways intercountry adoptees choose to define themselves within and beyond artificially imposed boundaries. The younger adoptees in this study have experienced their lives in Australia differently to our first intercountry adoptees – but how will the next generation of adoptees respond to their changing circumstances?

It now seems clear that social and personal support to assist intercountry adoptees with the complexities and contradictions of their lives is crucial to their feelings of belonging. I have suggested that such support needs to include knowledge and access to a diverse range of sub-culture styles, supportive peer groups, access to information and resources on adoption and race issues, appropriate school programmes which address bullying, opportunities for transnational interests as well as a supportive family who provide their children with strategies to deal with racism as well as exposure to Future Directions 234

different peoples and cultures through educational opportunities, through travel and numerous interrelationships with others.

However, the notion of ‘social and personal support’ requires further investigation.

What types of assistance do newly formed intercountry adoptive families require? How can we ensure that all adoptive families have access to appropriate information and resources as the needs of their children change over time? What further strategies need to be implemented to educate the broader community about intercountry adoption? Australia’s post-adoption support remains significantly undeveloped. While the notion of support may include the development of a “healthy and positive identity”, the meaning of a healthy ‘cultural identity’ needs to incorporate more than notions about preserving traditional cultures or claiming imaginary attachments to a cultural

‘essence’. There is no appropriate ‘one size fits all’ response to the complexities, contradictions and ambivalences associated with identity construction in hybrid adoptee ‘communities’ or indeed in any other.

Ultimately of course, the intricacies involved in living with difference and ‘together-in- difference’ can only be learned from those who are most affected - the intercountry adoptees. They have the potential to (re)invent and (re)define themselves, through their ongoing negotiations with each other, with their families, with broader local and global communities, and by their continued efforts to expose inequalities and to promote intercountry adoptees as people with enormous resilience and strength.

Appendices 235

APPENDIX 1

THE INTERCOUNTRY ADOPTEE PARTICIPANTS

Appendices 236

APPENDIX 1 – INTERCOUNTRY ADOPTEE PARTICIPANTS

‘Younger’ Group – (Aged 14 to 21)

JON

Jon was born in South Korea in 1988 and age 14 at the time of our first interviews. He spent the first five months of his life with a foster family in South Korea before travelling to Australia with his adoptive family. Jon lives in Canberra with his seven siblings - two older non-adopted sisters and five adopted siblings from India and Taiwan. Jon travelled back to Korea with his adoptive mother in 2000 and again in 2002 when he was sponsored by a Korean company to travel with another adoptee to his birth country. With the support of his adoptive mother and social workers from Eastern Social Welfare Society, Jon tried unsuccessfully to meet with his birth mother in 2000. Jon’s adoptive mother provided additional insights into his life.

LINNEA

Linnea was born in South Korea in 1984 and age 20 at the time of our first interviews. She spent the first five months of her life with a foster family in South Korea. Linnea has an older brother who is the biological son of her adoptive parents. Her parents separated when she was around three years of age and she lived with her mother while her brother lived with their father. Linnea lived in Adelaide until in June 2004, age 20, she received a scholarship from Easter Social Welfare Society to make her first return trip to Korea to complete a Korean language programme at a Seoul University. Linnea wanted to travel to Korea ‘to learn about and experience Korea first hand’. She also made contact with her birth family at this time and spent more time with them on a return trip in 2005. In our last correspondence in January 2006, Linnea was living in Seoul teaching elementary school children English and socialising with mostly Korean- American expatriate adoptees.

MIN KYUNG

Min Kyung was born in South Korea and age 16 (‘turning 17’) at the time of our first interviews in 2001. She spent the first months of her life with a foster family in South Korea and now lives in Sydney’s western suburbs with her adoptive parents and Appendices 237

adopted sister (age 13), also adopted from South Korea. Min Kyung was taken to South Korea on a holiday with her family in 2000. With support from her adoptive parents, Min’s adopted sister wished to search for her Korean relatives and managed to contact her birth parents on this trip. However, Min Kyung chose not to make any contact with birth relatives at this time although she believes that her birth mother may wish to contact her. Our last correspondence in 2003 saw Min Kyung studying at University in Sydney.

SEONG HWA

Seong Hwa was born in South Korea in 1986 and 19 years old at the time of our interviews in late 2004, early 2005. She spent the first few months of her life living with a foster mother and then on the South Coast of NSW with her adoptive parents and her younger siblings. Seong Hwa has a younger sister (age 17) and younger brother (age 13) who are both the biological children of her adoptive parents. Her family travelled back to South Korea in 1996 when she was 10 years old. Seong Hwa found out at this time that her birth parents had remarried and have other children. At the time of our interviews, Seong Hwa had completed high school and was preparing to study at university. She would like to travel to South Korea again and perhaps make contact with her birth parents when she has completed university.

AMY

Amy was born in South Korea in 1984 and age 17 at the time of our interviews in 2001. After spending the first few months of her life in a Korean foster home she lived with her adoptive parents and older brother (biological son of her adoptive parents) in a small town in NSW. When Amy was four years old, her parents adopted a three year old girl whose birth parents have Fijian and Korean backgrounds. At around age ten, Amy and her family moved to a larger city on the South Coast of NSW where she attended high school and left after Year 10. Despite her parent’s encouragement to visit Korea, she has ‘no interest in Korea’ or searching for birth relatives at this time. Amy’s sister, however, has traced some of her birth relatives in Australia. Amy has been working in the hospitality industry, completed a hospitality course and would like to own her own restaurant. Her parents have offered to buy her a café.

Appendices 238

DAVID

David was born in South Korea and age 15 at the time of our first interviews in 2001. He lives with his adoptive parents in a small town in outer western Sydney. David has dyslexia and other learning disorders and has struggled with issues of racial isolation and racism. He has three older sisters and an older brother who are biological siblings. David travelled with his adoptive parents to South Korea on two separate occasions during the years we were corresponding. On the first trip in 2000 he sought contact with his birth parents but it wasn’t until the second trip that David met his birth family (mother, brother and sister). David changed schools for years 11 and 12 where he joined a large group of Korean- Australian students. Since my last correspondence with David and his mother in 2003, he has become a youth representative in ICASN and appeared on a 2006 SBS ‘Insight’ programme about intercountry adoption.

MELODY

Melody was born in South Korea and age twenty at the time of our interviews in 2001. Melody spent her youth and adolescence living on the Central Coast of NSW with her six siblings, three biological siblings and three adopted from Korea. Melody experienced significant racism at school and does not report experiencing a supportive home environment. Her parents divorced in her senior years of school and she went to live with her sister. Melody was studying at university during the time of our interviews and reports feeling ‘passionately about music’. She plays the violin and guitar and would love to ‘be in a band’. Melody had tried to find out more information about her birth parents but had not travelled to Korea during the period we were in contact.

JOSIE

Josie was born in South Korea and age 16 when interviewed in 2001. She lives with her adoptive parents in an inner western Sydney suburb and has no siblings. Josie describes her adoptive mother as ‘half Chinese’ and her parents as very supportive and reiterates the importance of her diverse group of friends. Josie does not report experiencing racism at school or in the community but is incensed at the way some other ‘Asians’ at her school have been targeted by Caucasian ‘ hard core, attitude-filled fashion victims’. At the time of our interviews she was reactivating the ‘anti-racism team’ at her school to address these issues and preparing for her Year 11 exams. She Appendices 239

had not travelled to Korea but described her life as getting ‘the best of both worlds’ and that she ‘feels equipped to retaliate against racism’.

AMARA

Amara was born in Sri Lanka in 1980 and was aged 21 at the time we first spoke in 2002. She was adopted at 29 days old and is the only child in her adopted family. Her adoptive father was born in Switzerland and she considers this country her second home. Amara grew up in Paddington, Sydney and reports a supportive extended adoptive family and close friends. She moved to South Yarra in Victoria with a friend after she finished high school – ‘we just did it because we could and it’s exciting’. Amara’s story appeared in the anthology ‘Colour of Difference’ project, and she described her experiences as ‘very different to many of the others in the book’. Amara is extremely positive about her adoption and spoke about feeling ‘grounded in Australia’. At the time of our conversations she was studying child care at TAFE and working in a child care centre. She has not travelled back to Sri Lanka but has attempted to trace her birth mother because she is concerned about her mother’s feelings of loss and would ‘like her to know that I think she made the right decision and that it has worked out well’.

‘Older’ Group - (Aged 26 to 34)

MALLIKA

Mallika was born in Sri Lanka in 1977 and aged 26 at the time of our interviews in 2003. She was adopted by a Western Australian couple at 5 months. Mallika is the oldest of four adopted children, a sister and brother from South Korea (not biologically related) and sister from Sri Lanka. She grew up ‘in an upper middle class setting’ with predominantly Caucasian family friends and reports that ‘being an adopted child has never caused me any problems’. At age six, Mallika travelled to Sri Lanka to adopt her sister but did not enjoy the trip. When she was in Year 5 at primary school, Mallika had a bicycle accident which resulted in paraplegia and she has been using a manual wheelchair since then. She remained very active in sport - ‘wheelchair sports from Year 6 onwards, including track, field and basketball’. After school Mallika completed a BA at University and worked in various policy and planning roles and also serves as Deputy Chair on the Board of the Disability Services Commission. She reports feeling ‘completely removed from Sri Lanka’ although her boyfriend and others have Appendices 240

encouraged her to return. In recent times she says that she has a ‘slight curiosity’ to find out more about her birth mother and is considering writing to the orphanage.

KRISTEN

Kristen was born in Sri Lanka in 1975 and aged 30 when we spoke in 2004. She was left at an orphanage at about 12 months old with no name, birth date or family details and at about 18 months old, adopted by her Caucasian Australian adoptive father and adoptive mother who had also been born in Sri Lanka, a member of a burga (Dutch heritage) family. Her adoptive mother’s family had moved to Australia when her mother was an adolescent. Kristen has four older siblings, two sisters and two brothers, all the biological children of her adoptive parents. The family initially lived in Victoria with much contact with Kristen’s mother’s extended Sri Lankan family. Kristen remembers many family celebrations with Sri Lankan food, artifacts and family albums of her parent’s trips to Sri Lanka. The family moved to a smaller country town where Kristen ‘struggled at school’ and later moved to Queensland. When she was ten years old, Kristen travelled with her parents and brother to Sri Lanka but was sick during her time there. ‘About a year’ after this trip Kristen’s mother became very ill and died unexpectedly. Her mother’s death had a profound impact on Kristen who spent her adolescent years with her largely absent adoptive father and brother. At age 21, Kristen moved to Brisbane searching for others ‘just like me’. She heard about ICASN in NSW and agreed to become the Queensland representative to help build a support network in her region.

ANNE-LOUISE

Anne-Louise was born in the south of Vietnam in 1968. She was 34 years old when we communicated in 2002. Anne-Louise lived in an orphanage until she was five and was brought to Australia in 1973 by Red Cross International to see if doctors could restore her eyesight. The operation was unsuccessful and although Anne-Louise was meant to return to Vietnam, the take over of Saigon in 1975 prevented this from happening. Anne- Louise did not have a stable family life, experiencing 13 foster families before she finally formed a loving relationship with her last foster mother who adopted her when Anne-Louise was 22. In 1990, encouraged by a friend, she made her first return trip to Vietnam describing the moment of landing as ‘pure joy’. She travelled a further three times to Vietnam in the following years and managed to meet the Sister who had Appendices 241

known her as a child. Anne-Louise says that she has ‘never felt at home’ in Australia although she now has good friends in the adoption community.

MY DUNG (pronounced My Yoong)

My Dung was born in Vietnam in 1974 and placed in an orphanage in South Vietnam. She was one of the hundreds of babies airlifted out of Vietnam at the end of the war in 1975 known as Operation Babylift . My Dung was taken to Fairfield Hospital in Victoria ‘for what I affectionately call "quarantine"’ and joined her adoptive parents and their two biological sons in Adelaide when she was around 15 months old. My Dung’s parents divorced when she was five and she lived with her mother. She was educated through the Catholic school system and experienced significant racism in high school and in the wider community. My Dung completed a Bachelor of Applied Science and then worked in the disability field. At the time of our conversations she was living in a country area of South Australia and had no plans to live back in the city. She was also completing a degree in social work to broaden her job opportunities.

INDI

Indi was born in Vietnam in 1971 and age 30 at the time of our first interviews in 2001. Indi’s adoptive grandmother was one of the founders of an orphanage in Saigon and put her daughter in contact with the orphanage when she expressed her desire to adopt a baby girl. Indi’s adoptive mother visited the orphanage in 1972 and met Indi but as she was suffering from severe malnutrition she was placed in a World Vision hospital until she was permitted to join her adoptive parents and two older brothers (biological children of her parents) in Sydney. Indi grew up in Sydney’s north attending a private girl’s school and then a performing arts school in Sydney’s outer west. She experienced significant racism at school and in her predominantly white neighbourhood and moved to a more ‘multicultural area of Sydney’ as an adult. Indi participated in the Colour of Difference project and founded Adopted Vietnamese InternationaI (AVI) in 2000, a website dedicated to all adopted Vietnamese and Vietnamese war orphans. In 2006 she received a Medal of the Order of Australia for the establishment and administration of AVI. She has escorted other Vietnamese adoptees on ‘homeland’ tours, completed a Masters degree on Vietnamese adoptees growing up in Western countries and is currently completing a PhD on Australian adoptive parent’s identity construction.

Appendices 242

SUE

Sue was born in Vietnam in 1974 and age 28 when we first spoke in 2002. She was adopted as a one month old by her adoptive mother, born in Tasmania and her father who was born in Holland. Her parents came to live in Western Australia for work related reasons with Sue’s two older brothers, both the biological children of her parents. Her parents loved to travel and Sue says that her home ‘was unusually multicultural in the music, ornaments, food, activities and religion’. They were also key organisers in a adoptive families support group for pre and post adoption. Sue feels fortunate to have attended a culturally diverse school and believes she avoided discrimination by ‘having a fierce front with people’ and by actively fighting injustices about a range of issues. She reports never feeling alone as she knew of other adoptees but following a reunion of Vietnamese adoptees in 2000 fostered a new found ‘social connection’ with other adoptees. Sue has travelled extensively in Europe and Asia since age 17 but made her first return trip to Vietnam with her partner in 2002. She studied architecture at university and now owns her own architecture business with her husband. She says that “we feel we have established a great balance between work, family, religion and individual interests in life”.

ANA

Ana was born in Vietnam and adopted by a couple from Melbourne who have three biological sons. She was 29 when we first spoke in 2002 and residing in Sydney. Ana participated in the Colour of Difference project and spoke about the enormous changes this project had made to her self perception. She was brought up in a loving, supportive family environment but was racially isolated in a predominantly white environment until she was in her twenties. Ana travelled alone to Vietnam on a ‘quest for identity’ during the time we were corresponding and visited the orphanage where she had spent her first months. Ana says that the trip gave her a ‘sense of inner peace…despite the trauma and the emotional rollercoaster’ she experienced. Ana works as editor for the Australian fitness industry, is the NSW representative for ICASN and National Public Liaison Manager for AVI. She regularly speaks about her experiences at adoption gatherings and mentors younger adoptees.

Appendices 243

NAOMI

Naomi was born in Singapore in 1970 and age 33 when we first spoke in 2003. She was adopted at age 4 months by an English family who had two biological children, a son and a daughter. Naomi’s adoptive father was working in the Royal Air Force in Singapore when she was adopted and the family then spent the first five years of her life in England and migrated to Western Australia in 1975. Naomi and her family spent six years in a small town with a large Aboriginal population where Naomi believes she was the only Asian. Naomi suffered significant racism as well as taunting from other children about her cleft palate. She attended a boarding school for most of her high school years and when she was in Year 11 her father died. Naomi has suffered significant losses in her life and continues to experience racial isolation in the town where she lives. Her job is to care for the elderly and when her mother was diagnosed with cancer in recent years Naomi also moved in to care for her. At around this time, age 33, she decided to commence searching for her birth family, a decision she had delayed because she thought this may hurt her adoptive mother. Her trip to Singapore presented more questions than answers but she hopes to meet her birth family some day. Naomi has always yearned to have a biological connection to someone and in our last correspondence in January 2007 she told me that she was expecting a baby around Easter.

SAM

Sam was born in Vietnam prior to the end of the war, found on an orphanage’s steps and lived there until age 16 months when she was adopted by an Australian family who had two older non-adopted sons. Sam was 28 when we first spoke by phone and email letters in 2002. She believes that she suffered significant traumas in the orphanage before she was adopted and also faced many challenges during her youth and adolescent. This included experiences of difference in relation to race and sexuality issues and involvement in the drug scene which led to living on the streets for some time. Sam did not find her home environment supportive but also does not attribute her problems to her adoptee status suggesting that this was just a ‘small part of my life’. Sam does not readily identify with other adoptees or other Vietnamese-Australians but has found support through other friendship networks and by expressing her thoughts through poetry.

Appendices 244

KATE

Kate was born in Penang, Malaysia in 1975 and age 27 at the time of our conversations in 2002. Kate’s adoptive parents lived in Malaysia for a year prior to her birth and until she was two years old when the family returned to live in Melbourne. Kate has no siblings. She describes her adoptive parents as ‘very open with me about my adoption’ but she lived in a predominantly white neighbourhood and did not learn anything about the culture of her birth until adulthood. Kate’s parents separated when she was four, her mother needing to work full-time to support them. She believes that she may have known more ‘about my culture had my parents stayed together’. Kate now resides in a culturally diverse community and has Asian friends who she socialises and travels with. She says, ‘I feel really comfortable with myself’. In 2004, two years after our interviews I came across an article in a newspaper that stated she had returned to visit Penang and was asking for help in her search for birth relatives.

DOM

Dom was born in Cho Lon, the Chinese district of Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City), Vietnam in 1975. We spoke via email and phone in 2002 when he was 27 years old. He has no birth records and was evacuated to Bangkok a few days before the end of the war, then airlifted to Melbourne and adopted by a family with ‘three motherly sisters and a brother’, all significantly older than Dom and the biological children of his adoptive parents. He spent his childhood in Mt Gambier, a small country town in South Australia which had a significant population of southern European immigrants but few Asians. Dom describes his school experiences as ‘definitely negative’ and experienced significant racism. He has also suffered from deafness and cerebral palsy. He moved to Adelaide to study an Advanced Diploma in Acting and completed a Bachelor of Arts with Honours in 1999. Dom received sponsorship to travel to Vietnam with two other students and film and document the attempted search of his birth relatives. He now resides in Melbourne where he says ‘my time is split between Vietnamese – Aussies and Aussies’. He works in the arts community and has been involved in writing playscripts and screenplays about Vietnamese-Australian identities and other multicultural Australian issues. Appendices 245

APPENDIX 2

ABBREVIATIONS AND WEBSITE DETAILS Appendices 246

APPENDIX 2 – ABBREVIATIONS AND WEBSITE DETAILS

Abbreviations Website

Australian Institute of Health and Welfare (AIHW) www.aihw.gov.au

Adopted Vietnamese International (AVI) www.adoptedvietnamese.org

Australian Society of Intercountry Aid for Children www.asiac.org.au (NSW) Inc. (ASIAC)

China Centre of Adoption Affairs (CCAA)

Department of Community Services (DOCS) www.community.nsw.gov.au

Eastern Social Welfare Society (ESWS) www.eastern.or.kr

Global Overseas Adoptees Link (GOAL) www.goal.or.kr

Intercountry Adoptee Support Network (ICASN) www.icasn.org

Korean Adoptees Worldwide (KAW) www.koreanadoptees.net

Korean American Adoptee Adoptive Family Network www.kaanet.com (KAAN)

Network of Transnational Adoptees in Norway (NUAN)

Post Adoption Research Centre (PARC) www.bensoc.org.au

Special Broadcasting Service Corporation (SBS)

United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child www.unicef.org/crc/ (UNCROC)

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