|
I'm twenty-eight years old
A friend of mine tells me about an organization called y-KAN (Young,
spirited Korean American Network). I find myself attending their
monthly meetings, and participating in almost every event: food
an clothing drives, new membership gatherings, parties. During one
of the meetings, a member tells me that there is a Korean Adoptee
named Hollee McGinnis, a former y-KAN committee member, who began
an organization for adoptees called Also-Known-As.
Here, in this group of adoptees, I find people who are just like
me, People who experienced the same things I did growing up. It
is amazing and overwhelming. There is an understanding that I share
which each on of them, and it is something that I have been looking
for my entire life - from my frequent trips to Canal Street (Chinatown),
to my participation in the he church group, to my trip to Korea.
I do not need to know everyone's life story, but I feel right at
home among them. We are a young group who want to create a place
where people can love each other as a brother, sister, mother, father.
Though some members want to search for their biological parents,
I realize I am content with the ones I have.
I am thirty-three years old now
I have tried to identify with my birth culture, while embracing
the only culture I have ever known. These days I live with my wife
in Inwood, Manhattan, just above Washington Heights, a place where
there is an unusual mix of artists - painters, musicians, writers
- and Dominicans. My wife, Juliet, who is Chinese-American, loves
it up here because the rent is cheap and it feels like miles away
from the city, even though technically, we are still in Manhattan.
Unfortunately, I do not share the same feeling - there is no place
to just walk around, no shops or bookstores to browse in, no movie
theaters. And no Asians either, unless, of course, you count the
Chinese take out place that's across the street from our apartment
building.
Again, like when I was a teenager, I feel as if I do not belong
here, in this neighborhood, and sometimes I retreat back to Canal
Street - a familiar place where I can blend and become invisible.
My wife reminds me that I will never be comfortable wherever I live,
and she is probably right about that. But I am always hopeful that
one day I will be able to feel comfortable - and happy - where I
am. One day.
Thomas Teska lives in Manhattan with his wife, Juliet, and three
cats - Oscar, Misha and Wolfe. He works at an advertising agency
in New York and is a Member and former Board member of Also-Known-As.
Previous
1 |
2 | 3
| 4
|
