On May 30, 2024, a PBS program, America Reframed: Geographies of Kinship, concerned adoptions of Korean children to the United States and other countries, starting in the early 1950s, when many Korean children were orphaned, due to the Korean war. Some children were fathered by American servicemen, or other military persons who were stationed in Korea. Some were not actually orphans, but their parents could not afford to raise them, or the mother was not married, which was very shameful then. Some of the biological fathers were Black, or otherwise looked down upon in Korea, which had inherited the idea that only pure Koreans counted, which one person said had arisen when Japan was ruling Korea. These mixed-race children would not have been given any privileges of citizenship, including going to school. Of course, wherever there are men and women, and especially in stressful and uncertain times, there will be relationships that result in children, many of whom will not be born into stable families.

Since the 1950s, it is estimated, there have been over 200,000 adoptions of Korean children, to the U.S. and European countries in particular. This was an embarrassment to the country of South Korea, although at one time the government saw it as a sort of asset, in that the fees brought income to South Korea, and many families were eager to adopt Korean children, for several reasons. Now, there are many of these adopted persons, now adults, returning to Korea to search for birth family, to try to connect with their Korean heritage, or to try to find out where they were before being adopted. This program featured several of these persons in detail. It is worth noting that the Holt Adoption Agency came out of this situation of so many orphaned and abandoned Korean children. The Holt family wanted to rescue these children, and knew that many couples in the U.S. were desperately wanting to adopt children, Korean or not. The agency screened families for character, ability to provide for children, and specifically wanted the adopting families to be Christian. Just one year into the Korean war, 100,000 children were orphaned or abandoned. Adoption by U.S. and other countries seemed like the best answer.

One of the women featured, Estelle Cooke-Sampson, who is Korean and also has African-American ancestry from her birth father, said that a black soldier (not her birth father, but a kind, concerned man), would come and visit her. She was adopted by a black family in the U.S. and had siblings who were not Korean. She said no one ever talked about her Korean ancestry and she grew up identifying as black, but no one else looked like her. She found her way to a college education and became a doctor. She returned to Korea as an adult, to find out exactly where she had come from, and to try to find someone who remembered her as a baby and toddler. She found a cathedral and a nun who had known her, which was very moving for her. The nun said she had been a very sweet, smart child. She had not even remembered being called by name, nor did she remember any other children being called by names. She went on a Korean missing persons show, and thought she had found a brother in Korea, and possibly a half-sister who lived in Baltimore, with different fathers. All were overjoyed. The mother had recently died. She decided she wanted to confirm the relationships with a DNA test before she committed her whole heart, and found out she was not related to them. Although they were still happy to accept her, she said she had been adopted once and did not want to be adopted, even informally, by people not related to her. She found three different birth dates on different documents. She remembered and earlier orphanage and found a photo there of herself, in Buson, Korea, and then more photos of herself as a toddler and little girl. She says finding out what she did find was affirming, even if not what she might have wished. She is seen wearing a t-shirt that says “50% Korean, 100% me.” At some point in her early childhood in Korea, Sgt. Cooke decided to adopt her, and took her to a military camp, where she lived, until he brought her to the U.S. She knew no English at that point. He married and her adoptive mother accepted her, but not in the way her adoptive brothers (birth children of both parents) were accepted, and remembers she did a lot of work and had no friends or fun, which she believes is because she looked different. So she focused on learning and taking care of herself.

By 1953, an armistice was signed, but many U.S. servicemen were still stationed in South Korea. “Camptowns” were built up for the U.S. military. Although prostitution was illegal, it was readily available and open. Young women cooked, did laundry, did whatever they could to survive and provide for themselves and their families, including children. Children whose fathers were Black could not access school or other privileges, because there was a law that children belong to their fathers, not mothers. Syngman Rhee, the first President of South Korea, wanted Korea to be “pure,” not racially mixed.

Harry Holt, the founder, along with his wife, of Holt International Adoption Agency, first adopted eight Korean mixed-race children and then decided to help others adopt. His daughter, interviewed in this program, said that many people object to children being adopted out of their homeland, but she says, “Have you ever been to a baby home? Have you seen how children suffer without parents? These children need loving parents and stable homes.” Her father would make arrangements with orphanages and get adoptive parents’ power of attorney, and bring them back legally. His point of view was that children were dying and needed homes. Children with Black ancestry went to Black families and those with European ancestry went to white families. Later, that was criticized, but many adoptees express that they wish they had grown up with people who looked like them. Some of the people featured in this program discussed that.

One young man said that he and his brother were adopted to Switzerland. They knew they had parents in Korea, and didn’t really accept Swiss parents, who didn’t want to hear about Korea. They went to a Korean school and learned Korean, but felt they lived a split life. The brothers would keep secret stashes of food, partly because they had a background of lack of food. They collected coffee creamer lids, because they liked the smell. He thinks he may have a million of them. The brother rebelled and got into trouble, while this young man tried to be Swiss, but now says he is “Korean, period.” When he met his birth mother in Korea, he says he felt numb because it was so overwhelming. He tried to talk about it with his adoptive parents and could not. He was diagnosed with PTSD. Perhaps society needs a more accurate term for those adopted out of their culture and background. Now, he says, “I have to learn a lot of things, but I’m not numb anymore.”

Other children, in the 1960s and ’70s, were raised in orphanages, and were not orphans, but were taken there by poor parents. “Sponsors” sent small amounts each month to the orphanage. This sponsorship was promoted on TV and in magazines. Some people did go to Korea (or other countries) to meet the children they had “sponsored” and some wound up adopting them legally.

A woman named Lena Kim, adopted to Sweden by white parents, saw herself as white (not Asian) because her parents were white and her sisters, all Korean, also saw themselves as white. She has become a spokesperson for Korean adoptees finding their culture and families, if possible.

After Syngman Rhee, the next dictator expanded foreign adoption and portrayed the adoptees as “cultural ambassadors.” Considering many were adopted as infants, it’s hard to see how they could be ambassadors for a culture they didn’t know first-hand. In the 1970s in the U.S., there was supposed to be a “white baby famine,” due to the legalization of abortion, more effective and available contraception, and more single mothers keeping their children instead of being pressured into relinquishing them for adoption. Interracial adoption became a “popular choice.” Korean babies became very desirable. More full Korean children were being adopted. Some were objects of curiosity, and some parents tried to protect them. One woman adopted six, all girls, deliberately, so they would have each other, but no boys.

In 1988, the Olympics were held in Seoul, showing that Koreans could be outstanding athletes, and showing off the now prosperous South Korean economy. They were exporting cars and babies. In 1997, Kim Dae Jung (not a military dictator) was elected, and he apologized to adoptees. During the collapse of the economy in the 1980s, the IMF Bailout required getting rid of a lot of middle management, and adoptions skyrocketed when parents became unemployed.

Korea was the top adoption exporter country for 50 years, but that has changed. Their Special Adoption Law was revised in 2011, to support mothers keeping their children and to provide access to adoption records. Korea legally eliminated the law and custom of fathers owning the family. Single mothers no longer feel pressured to relinquish for social and economic reasons, although individual families may still pressure them, as some still do in this country. Many adult persons adopted from Korea have returned to look for birth records and try to find family. There are now organized tours for that purpose, in fact. People in the 1950s and up to just a few years ago felt they were doing the right thing by encouraging and promoting Korean adoptions, and did not realize the possible trauma involved. There seemed to be no better answer for many of those years, and no doubt many lives were saved that way, when so many children were orphaned and so many Korean people were starving or nearly so. Now we have better circumstances, and it is good that the laws and customs have also changed.