Words and Photos provided by Marritt Kim
I grew up in the Netherlands in the province of Friesland in the village Drachten. It is the countryside where many farmers live. Friesians are down-to-earth, loyal, hardworking, a bit stubborn and proud to be Friesian. I can’t help but also be a bit proud of being partly Friesian myself.
In the Netherlands, I explain that I am half-Korean. In Korea, I say I am Dutch and half-Korean. Outside of these countries, I’m half-Dutch and half-Korean. The most common follow-up question is if I speak Korean. My mother was adopted and there was no cultural transfer, so neither of us speak Korean.
She grew up in the Netherlands, and so my mother had to actively search to connect with Korean culture. She always was interested in it. She’d decorate our house in an Asian-style, and made a beautiful Asian-style garden. She was always exploring how to cook Asian foods.
When I talk about my childhood, I can’t help but speak with the “we” pronoun because my sister was born eleven months after me. People thought we were twins. When I was three years old, our younger brother passed away at fourteen months old due to a medical error. The picture above is from his first and last birthday.
I believe that my mother suffered from much trauma in her lifetime. She had borderline personality disorder. When I was thirteen years old, our mother died by suicide. I prefer not to use the words “committed suicide” because there was no crime.
For a parent, I think the loss of a child is like a black hole of grief that is carried for life. For a child, the loss of a parent is like losing part of yourself. Everything changes.
My sister and I could not live with my father anymore and so our grandparents took us in. After that, we lived with foster families.
“seeking the grandparents who passed on these lovely freckles”
I saw my parents’ grief when we lost my brother.
I imagine that my biological grandparents might also have suffered like that. I saw a Dutch TV program where a Korean adoptee was reunited with her birth parents. The story of her birth parents touched me deeply. I saw how they were helpless, always yearning for their lost child.
In that moment, I felt that I should try to find my biological grandparents. Even if I could only say that their daughter had already passed away. I want to tell them that I am here. That I live a good life and that I’m happy.
It would be a wonderful thing to meet my relatives and recognize myself in their faces. I wonder if I would find traces of my mom and my siblings. I wonder where did we get our lovely freckles?
We grew up surrounded by blond hair and blue eyes. We looked different and we were bullied for it. It was one of the reasons why I changed my primary school when I was 10 years old. For my sister, the bullying stopped when she came back to school with the first prize in taekwondo. I would scare people by calling my little sister if they were bothering me.
I can remember our mother trying to prepare us for the bullying in a funny way. She would call us “Chinese” or “small-eyes” in a safe and fun setting. She gave us good comebacks to those comments that were funny and light.
We’d laugh and I remembered to feel proud and to defend that we were half-Dutch and half-Korean. So when people really called us those things, we were not bothered.
My favourite comeback to the question “North or South Korea?” is: “Why? Are you interested in some nuclear weapons? I might know a guy.”
This was just one side of the experience of being mixed while growing up. Most people were just friendly and curious, and did not treat us any differently.
Because I was only thirteen when my mother passed, I never got to know her very well as a person.
I knew her as a mother - a very lovely one who tried to give us everything. We were her life. She wanted us to stay kids for as long as possible. I still have this idealistic image of her, like a child who sees their parents as superheroes. The stories about my father and my family are what help me understand her better as a person.
Now that I live in Korea, I realize that many things about her were very Korean, even though she was three years old when she came to the Netherlands. Some things remain and are carried on. At home, we used to sit on the ground whenever we watched the television during meals. Her way of listening to people. Her eye for detail.
My brother, sister and I all share our second name - Kim. We are very proud of it. We told our mom that we would carry on our second name to our children. I remember that it touched her deeply. It was always safe to talk about being mixed Korean.
My parents gave me some beautiful lessons about life. Be kind and have empathy. The importance of having a good sense of humour and fun in life.
My father lives by the philosophy of enjoying life as much as possible, after losing his son and wife. It is a hard confrontation that life can be short.
Even though parts of my childhood were turbulent, I’ve found that my parents are just human. They were also figuring out life for the first time.
I am still in the process of finding a balance between healing the scars that were caused by my parents and having empathy for them. Regardless of blood, family is important to me.
Adoption is sometimes difficult for people to understand, both in the Netherlands and in Korea. I felt judged for not knowing the language or a type of Korean food. In Korea, I often hear the comment “Why didn’t your mother didn’t teach you this?”
Like adoptees, I get many questions like whether we know our family in Korea, why my mom was adopted, if we want to search for family, if the adoptive family feels like real family, and so on.
I think most people are genuine and while their curiosity might cross a boundary sometimes, I am open to answering most questions. Sharing knowledge is important.
I am finding my own way to connect with Korea. It has been a big journey. I’ve found that I still am not able to describe my recent experience in Korea, so I’m writing a book about it. This book is also about how the adoption affected my mother and me, and finding my own way as a mixed Korean.