How Korea's laws block adoptees' descendants from finding their families
전체 맥락을 이해하기 위해서는 본문 보기를 권장합니다.
"All her life, my mother thought that her name and birth date were made up by the adoption agency, and that bothered her a lot," van der Staaij told The Korea Herald. "I wish she could have at least known that her birth date was real, especially since that was the date on which she took her own life."
"Not only did I lose my mother that day, but also that connection to Korea," van der Staaij said. "I started wondering where I got my nose and freckles from, and if I had any family members I resembled."
이 글자크기로 변경됩니다.
(예시) 가장 빠른 뉴스가 있고 다양한 정보, 쌍방향 소통이 숨쉬는 다음뉴스를 만나보세요. 다음뉴스는 국내외 주요이슈와 실시간 속보, 문화생활 및 다양한 분야의 뉴스를 입체적으로 전달하고 있습니다.
Korean-Dutch Marrit Kim van der Staaij teared up as she read a long-awaited email confirming that there were records of her mother’s adoption that she had never seen.
South Korean adoption agency Korea Social Service disclosed that they had verified her mother’s birth date and Korean name, and had even uncovered information about her biological grandfather.
“All her life, my mother thought that her name and birth date were made up by the adoption agency, and that bothered her a lot," van der Staaij told The Korea Herald. "I wish she could have at least known that her birth date was real, especially since that was the date on which she took her own life."
While there was little certainty about her own past, van der Staaij’s mother ensured that Korea was a part of their lives. Van der Staaij remembers how her family cheered for the Korean soccer team during the 2002 FIFA World Cup.
But at 13 years old, she lost her mother, who had been struggling with mental illness from a young age.
“Not only did I lose my mother that day, but also that connection to Korea,” van der Staaij said. “I started wondering where I got my nose and freckles from, and if I had any family members I resembled.”
When she was only 3 years old, van der Staaij had also lost her younger brother. As she watched her parents live with the immense loss of a child, she wondered if her Korean grandparents might have also felt that same heartache.
What finally moved van der Staaij to start her search was watching TV program “Spoorloos (Without a Trace)," a Dutch series that tracks down and reunites separated families.
One tear-jerking episode tells the story of an older Korean couple confronted with years of pent-up grief and sadness as they reconnect with the child they gave up for adoption.
“Seeing this fragile couple desperate to find their lost daughter had a big impact on me. I thought, if those were my grandparents and I could give them answers about their daughter, then I’d want to at least try to find them,” van der Staaij explained.
Legal lacuna
Overseas Korean adoptees have made important achievements in adoptee rights, including getting adoptees access to the F-4 Overseas Korean visa and dual citizenship. But the Korean legal system still severely limits the chances for adoptees -- and makes it almost impossible for their children -- to succeed in finding their biological families.
Therefore, adoptees in search of their biological family have to request help either from their adoption agency or from Korea’s state-run National Center for the Rights of the Child.
There is no mention of descendants of adoptees in either of Korea's major adoption-related laws.
Article 36 of the Act on Special Cases Concerning Adoption states only that an adopted person may request information on their adoption with the consent of their birth parents, and that if such consent cannot be obtained, information may be disclosed only if required for medical treatment or if exceptional circumstances arise.
This legal lacuna leaves it unclear whether or not children of adoptees have the right to search for their biological families at all, as well as whether they need the permission of their adoptee parents to do so.
Despite being unsure of her rights as the descendant of a Korean adoptee, van der Staaij decided to request that the KSS search for her family using her adoptive grandmother’s name.
She does not know if the death of her mother in some way allowed her to get access to those files, but the KSS was able to retrieve the original documents from her mother’s adoption agency. She learned that her biological grandfather used to be a watchmaker who gave up his child for adoption after a conflict prompted his wife to leave him.
“I was so happy to receive some information, but at the same time, it brought up even more questions and a lot of sadness,” van der Staaij said.
“Why does it surface now, after my mother’s death?”
But when van der Staaij scrolled down to read the rest of the email, she was confronted with another legal roadblock.
The KSS wrote, “Please note that the personal information of your mother’s birth father was redacted in accordance with the current Korean adoption law and privacy law.”
According to these laws, the personal information of one's birth parent can only be disclosed with that parent's direct consent.
She learned that her case has now been forwarded to the state-run NCRC, which manages the process of tracking down the parent' current address and obtaining their consent.
All van der Staaij could do was wait for them to trace her birth family.
However, her chances of progressing past that stage were not promising. National Assembly audit data disclosed by then-Rep. Ko Young-in in 2023 revealed a mere 26.6 percent success rate in the previous five years.
In nearly 73 percent of the 8,603 requests for adoption-related information disclosure made to the NCRC from 2018 to 2023, the agency could not assist, according to the audit findings. The majority of these cases -- over 42 percent -- occurred due to incomplete adoption records hindering the search. In another 24 percent of cases, despite locating the birth parent and following the standard consent-seeking process — mailing them a letter via post — there was no reply. Instances of no reply often resulted from delivery failures.
“I understand that everyone has the right to privacy, but what if they don’t even know that we’re looking? Who knows if they even want privacy?” van der Staaij wondered.
After over three more months of waiting, she received the heartbreaking news that the NCRC could not offer any family search services to her. In this case, the problem was not her birth grandfather's whereabouts or his willingness to provide consent to disclose his personal information. The issue was van der Staaij, as the child of an adoptee, did not qualify for the services offered to adoptees themselves.
"I'm happy with the new information, but my trust in these organizations is damaged. Entrusting them with something as precious as my (birth) family search is hard. I feel powerless," van der Staaij said.
Van der Staaij is now engaging in discussions with adoptee rights organizations in Korea and government officials in the Netherlands to discuss the rights of future generations.
To van der Staaij, this significant gap in Korean law shows a lack of acknowledgment of the children of adoptees, a group that is expanding globally.
“I feel like Korea doesn’t recognize that the adoption affects us too,” she said.
Van der Staaij is planning to write a book about her search for family, how the adoption of her mother influenced their lives in different ways, and the experience of being a half-Dutch, half-Korean living in both countries.
If you’re thinking about self-harm or suicide, contact the Ministry of Health and Welfare’s helpline 1393, available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Please request a translator for English-language services.
(amberanneroos@naver.com)
By Amber Anne Roos(amber@heraldcorp.com)
Copyright © 코리아헤럴드. 무단전재 및 재배포 금지.