Never “Asian” Enough

“You know you’re not actually Korean, right?” Someone once said this to me to which I uncomfortably laughed and said, “Yeah… I guess so.”

As an adoptee born in Korea and then raised in the United States, it is a strange line to straddle throughout one’s life. 

“If you spoke Korean first, then that’s technically your mother language, so English is not actually your true native language.” Someone else said to me even recently. I paused in uncertainty on how to process that.

Does the baby gibberish that was then lost by the time I was three-years-old actually count as language? Yet, one of my very first solid memories is looking up to a blank face, speaking but not being understood - a moment that would affect much of my psyche for years to come.

So, what does it mean to be Asian American under these conditions? 

Every year, I am faced with this contemplation thanks to the incessant need of US culture to have a day, week, or month that forces a “celebration” of something that should just be accepted and appreciated as a natural part of the culture that makes America, America. Every year, I must say I never come up with a very good explanation nor am I inspired by the many attempts by others who try to do so with proclamations of “helping to inform” or “sharing our culture” or “raising awareness”. All of these are amazing and meaningful motivations. Yet, none resonate for me. So, every year, I spend a few moments in deep contemplation wondering….

A transracial international adoptee is regularly faced with either a subtle or direct implication that they are different. They are different from their birth country, culture and people. They are different from the adoptive country, culture and people. There is always a line that divides them from truly being a part of one or the other. 

By designating months such as “Asian American and Pacific Islander Month”, an adoptee is forced to see this line every day with extra emphasis. It is for this reason that I believe I am not enthralled nor participatory in the various activities that ensue during May each year.

Don’t get me wrong - I am happy that more awareness is raised and I am pleased that more of the Asian diaspora is taking action to make themselves seen and heard. It is disappointing that so much effort must be made in this day and age, but at least now there is a space to do it and more people outside of the diaspora are paying attention. 

Still, it creates a complicated headspace for those of us who cannot easily claim to be Asian American. 

For the most part, I refer to myself as a global citizen now. I have lived outside of the USA for almost 25 years, and I have lived outside of South Korea for 44 years. While I still hold a US passport since it is the country in which I have lived the longest, I do not feel so American anymore either.

However, in recent years, though I do not necessarily feel Korean in the sense of its culture and people, I have started to embrace aspects of my Korean heritage more. There was no particular “a-ha moment”, but rather an acceptance that if I look Korean and people are going to think of me as Korean first, then why fight it? Of course, I also still identify strongly as American, but now I feel a sense of pride in the Korean flag and the rise in popularity of Korean dramas. It no longer feels imposter-like to wear clothes that represent me as being of Korean roots. So, at last, I feel as if my Korean origins are balancing with my American-ness. 

So, what is my relationship with my cultural background and how do I identify? Well, I still do not have a definitive answer to that. Perhaps, I have just come to terms with the fact that I will never be Korean/Asian enough now that I am also no longer American enough having lived abroad for so long. Perhaps, age has given me the courage and confidence to no longer care one way or the other. Perhaps, I have just learned to celebrate being Asian and American in my own way.