Korean birth mother, biological son share emotional reunion in the Twin Cities
Hyun Suk Jeon never stopped searching for the son she placed for adoption when was she just 21 years old. Decades later, a DNA test helped them reunite.
THE DECISION
There is a group of adoptees that help make up the fabric of Minnesota: Korean adoptees. Minnesota has the highest concentration – up to 20,000 according to the Minnesota Historical Society – more than any other state.
The Twin Cities are where a South Korean mother traveled in early November to meet her biological son. The birth mother's perspective is not often told, but Hyun Suk Jeon never forgot her son, and bravely shared her story through translator Aerin Park.
"I never forget him," Jeon said. "I kept searching for him."
Jeon said she was 21 years old and never even got to hold her son when she placed him for adoption in 1990. She said it was a choice her family also wanted.
“Thirty-five years ago in Korea, [an] unwed woman got pregnant was unthinkable, unacceptable in the society and so having a baby without his father and for her delivering the baby without her husband was very restricted," Jeon said.
So Jeon made the difficult choice. "It was hard," she said, patting down tears with tissue.
The adoption agency named Jeon's son "Minki." Jeon was well aware she'd have to wait until her son was 18 years old to begin her search for him, and if he wanted to begin his. For years, she kept updating her contact information with the agency in case her son wanted to find her.
THE SEARCH
"It’s unthinkable to think that not knowing who your parents, biological parents are," Jeon said. "It’s really a terrible thing and also my mom is a domestic adoptee herself so I watched my mom reunite with her biological family and I thought, 'I really need to find my son.'"
Her longing for her son only grew as time passed and her search went nowhere. Jeon said there were two kinds of emotions. What if he's happy where he is and doesn't need to connect with her? The other feeling was whether he even thought about her at all.
Eventually, Jeon was urged by other adoptees to try DNA. She said she began inputting her information into different ancestry databases.
"And then finally I heard that 'We found your son,'" Jeon said.
But there was a problem, it was October 2020. The world had been upended by the deadly coronavirus pandemic and travel restrictions were in place around the globe.
When Jeon found out her biological son was also searching for her, they did what everyone else was doing during the unprecedented times: They connected through texts and had one Zoom call.
But would she ever meet him in-person?
REUNITED, AT LAST
It was Nov. 4, 2021. Jeon and her now-husband had traveled from South Korea to the U.S. Exhausted, Jeon said she realized on a layover in Detroit that her son had to do this as a newborn. She said it gave her a glimpse of what it must've been like for him.
They soon arrived at a home in Mounds View. Her son had also traveled from California to the same home that evening.
"As soon as I saw him walk in through the door I just I black out!" Jeon exclaimed. "'What should I do? What should I do?'" she wondered.
It turns out, it was the thing she didn’t get to do after he was born.
"Finally I was able to hug my son after 32 years," Jeon said. "It is unbelievable," she said.
"Minki" is now Chae Heuer. The 31-year-old was raised by a loving and supportive family in California.
"It’s like finding a missing puzzle piece," Heuer said. "It felt like time was speeding up and as soon as I walked through the door and hugged her, everything stopped," he said.
Heuer said he had been trying to get into contact with his birth family since he turned 18. But he kicked the search into high gear a couple of years ago.
"Learning more about my Korean heritage, it’s a whole other dynamic to my life that I didn’t even realize that I needed to be honest," Heuer said.
Both are now sharing pieces of themselves because as Jeon puts it, they know nothing about each other.
Heuer grew up in and around the Bay Area in California. A musician, he currently lives near Los Angeles. The weekend he met his biological mother he was able to play guitar for her while she looked on.
For Jeon, she explained that every year on his birthday in June she gets emotional. She and her now husband would fix a meal and celebrate his birth. But with her son actually in her physical presence this weekend, she is able to be his "mom."
"I was very overwhelmed that finally I can have that moment that I can share with my son, so this morning I fixed his breakfast for the first time," Jeon said.
CHALLENGES FOR ADOPTEES, BIRTH FAMILIES
The reunion was moved along thanks in part to the non-profit Adoptee Hub. In fact, Jeon spoke at Adoptee Hub's fundraiser on Nov. 6. The organization is trying to raise money for an online portal where birth families and adoptees input their information in order to reconnect.
Founder and fellow Korean adoptee Ami Nafzger said Korean adoptions started about 70 years ago right after the Korean War. She grew up in Minnesota but worked in Korea for about a decade. Nafzger said since she has left Korea there still isn't a formal place for adoptees to do a birth search, presenting unique challenges. She explains that on top of that, other issues exist: Adoption documents might have been destroyed, a lack of paperwork, or limited access based on whether the woman's parents signed off at the time of her child's birth on what information could be given out in the future. She said the Korean government has tried to resolve some of those issues, but more work needs to be done on the U.S. side.
"There’s so many adoptees that just can’t go to Korea, can’t afford it, or don’t know where to begin," Nafzger said.
She said all that can be barriers to a connection. But Nafzger explains that even after a reunion, the journey doesn’t always work out.
"Now that they have a new door open, Chae and his mom, they’re going to have more journeys together but they’re going to need that support of being able to communicate with each other," Nafzger said. She explains birth families and adoptees, especially if they're international adoptions, need support whether that's translation services or counseling. She said sometimes those barriers can lead to relationships dwindling after a reunion.
To be clear, not all adoptees have a desire to find their birth families. Nafzger knows that.
"Being able to have that choice to learn about your family learn about your background and to understand who you are, whether you want a relationship with your biological family or not, every adoptee should have that choice to know who they are and where they came from," Nafzger said.
JEON'S WORK AHEAD
Jeon is now an advocate for adoptees and birth families in South Korea. New laws about adoptions in Korea are only applicable to those who are infants waiting to be adopted there. She said there is a huge gap between those already adopted decades ago like her son and Nafzger.
That's why Jeon is clear in her work ahead. She will continue to support these families and adoptees in Korea.
Her message to adoptees is a simple one.
"Thank you for being alive," Jeon said. "Thank you for being you," she said. Jeon said she has been to one too many funerals for adoptees who choose to take their own lives.
While a Minnesota Department of Health report in 2017 found the Korean adoptee suicide rate has remained stable since 2012 and is not higher than what would be expected for a population of this size, researchers also discovered a total of 14 suicide deaths among possible Korean adoptees from 2011 to September 2017 based on death certificates. Research suggests that risk of suicide attempt and death is higher among adoptees than non-adoptees, and that international adoptees have higher odds of mental health disorders and death by suicide than domestic adoptees.
Jeon said she still needs support as she navigates a new relationship with Heuer. She shares the advice she was given by other birth families that might be helpful to others: Take it day-by-day. Don't rush the process or the child. And don't ask them to fulfill your happiness.
Jeon said she wholeheartedly understands why birth mothers, especially in Korea, can’t share their stories with others. She wants to encourage them to share their stories when and if they are ready.
"I know it’s hard but if your child wants to hear that story from you you have to be brave at once, at least," she urged.
There are some resources for adoptees in Korea. G.O.A.'L or the Global Overseas Adoptees' Link was started by and run by Korean adoptees living in Korea.
The National Center for the Rights of the Child, or NCRC is also another resource provided by the Korean government. The website that international Korean adoptees can use for a birth search is called Korean Adoption Services or KAS. It is run by NCRC.
THE FUTURE
Jeon and Heuer are excited about the future. But per her advice, Jeon doesn't want to put any expectations on the relationship. "I want this to be like normal family if it’s possible because I know nothing about him," Jeon said.
"It was very sad in the past but now in realize it’s a good thing that we can paint the white paper together," she said.
Heuer said he wants to continue to learn about his Korean heritage and the incredible person his biological mother is.
"I admire you very much as well as love you too, you know, as your son," Heuer said. "I think everything you’ve done is amazing so thank you," Heuer said as he embraces his birth mom.